


Therefore I Am

by smokeshop (orphan_account)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Night Stands, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:06:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 98,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/smokeshop
Summary: The one thing Isak wants is to move on from his high school mistakes. Even spends his time pining after a boy who will never like him back. The last thing either of them expect is to wind up in bed together, but that's exactly what happens.





	1. Khalid: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! this au is based off of a couple anonymous requests, so I hope I can do the idea justice! thank you to everyone who supports me, everyone who sends me messages on tumblr and wants to talk to me. you guys really make writing fun and worth it, and i hope you like this <3

**ISAK**

Sharing an apartment with Eva was ostensibly the worst decision he'd made in his young life.

He thought anyone and anywhere would be better than Eskild and Linn _and_ Noora shoved into a three-bedroom, where they were constantly taking rotating positions on the couch for nights at a time and where privacy was nonexistent, along with the notions of slipping out the door on time and getting into the shower before all the hot water was gone.

But he _still_ didn't get any hot water and he was never on time _any_ where, and there was hair absolutely everywhere, and as an added bonus Eva had acquired a hamster that lived happily and lazily in a cage in the living room, running on a shrieking metal wheel all night at a volume and pitch that pierced his eardrums.

“Have you seen my purple shirt?” Eva asked, drying her hair with a towel, dressed in jeans and a black lace bra as she walked into the kitchen. Isak narrowed his eyes at her and took another bite of cereal.

“No,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She wrapped the towel around her hair and stood up straight to look at him, narrowing her eyes right back. “What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are those hickeys or did you get attacked?” Isak asked.

Eva pulled the towel from her hair with a speed he'd never seen before and covered her front with it, holding the hem over her collarbone. “None of your business.”

“Then don't walk out half-naked,” Isak suggested.

“I am a quarter-naked, at most,” she said. “And you're no help.”

“What time did you get home last night?” Isak asked as she started walking out of the kitchen.

“None of your fucking _business_ , Valtersen!” she called, and closed her bedroom door. Isak knew exactly what time she'd gotten home, actually, because he'd been up studying until long past midnight, and she'd stumbled in and drank water from the tap without even looking at the kitchen table, without even knowing he was there.

Drunk Eva held a special place in his heart. Hungover Eva was different.

“Where's my _fucking_ shirt!” she yelled, voice muffled by the door. Isak glanced into the hallway and then back at his cereal bowl, taking another spoonful. “Fuck alcohol, I'm never drinking again.”

“Eva!” he called, setting his bowl in the sink and grabbing his backpack from beside his chair. “I'm going to class!”

“Have fun, nerd! I'm working until six!”

“Okay,” he said, slipping his feet into his shoes and shrugging on a jacket. “Bye!”

“I love you!” she called, and he was out the door.

And Isak couldn't complain. Not about the hamster or the hair or the hot water, not about her loud drunken returns in the middle of the night or her stories that lasted a year. Because Eva loved him, she truly did. Because Eva had let him sleep in her guest room off and on for months when he'd left home, even after everything he'd done. Eva had given him a bed when he was sleeping in a basement and food when he was begging his father for money. Eva loved him when she should have hated him, and he could put up with a sleepless hamster and a clogged shower drain. He could put up with anything. Because he owed her so much. So much.

He was early enough to walk instead of run to the tram, was early enough to even have to _wait_ for it for a few minutes. He had his headphones on and his phone tucked into his pocket playing Khalid too loud.

His first class of the day was chemistry and his second was psychology and his last was biology, and then he was home by one. And if Eva would be at the restaurant until six, he'd be able to study in his own home instead of escaping to the library as she blasted Dua Lipa in the kitchen and let the hamster run around the table's legs.

Isak boarded the tram and held onto a pole despite empty seats. If he sat down he'd fall asleep, because Eva had gotten home at one o'clock and Isak had stayed up studying for a long time after that, listening to her talk on the phone with Noora, laughing loudly for a long time before she passed out and he closed her door.

Campus was crowded and Isak pushed his way to the coffee shop. His chemistry lecture hall was by no means an interesting event, just an hour and a half of a white-haired man reading off the power points that he projected in the front of the room, so Isak would need a pick-me-up. And Eva usually made the coffee, but Eva had been angry and hungover and covered in hickeys from a questionable source, so he didn't ask when she bypassed the coffeemaker and ate a Fruit by the Foot before stepping into the shower.

“Dark roast, please,” he muttered to the girl behind the counter. She was wearing a flowered hijab and looked wholly unenthusiastic to be there. So he dug the coins from his pocket and paid her quickly so she could have a small reprieve before the next flood of customers. When she handed him his to-go cup he grasped it by its paper sleeve and turned away with a small _thank you_ , heading to a table to stir in sugar.

“Hi, Isak,” someone said, and Isak looked up from his concentrated work and threw the empty sugar packets in the trashcan, smiling.

“Hi, Even.”

“How are you?”

Isak shrugged, moving to make way for someone else to doctor their coffee, stepping closer to Even's table. A laptop was open in front of a notebook covered margin to margin with scratched black ink. “Alright,” he said. He dragged his eyes back up to Even's face. “How are you?”

“Doing great,” Even said, smiling brightly. “Do you have a class right now?”

“Yeah,” Isak said, taking out his phone to glance at the time. “Shit, yeah, gotta go. See you in psychology, though.”

Even had a funny look on his face when he said, “Okay, Isak. Bye. See you in psychology.”

He fell asleep halfway through chemistry and only woke up when the girl next to him slammed her textbook closed pointedly. She gave him a nasty look and he gave one back as he collected his notebook and laptop and crammed them into his backpack with some spiral-bounds and a million torn pieces of loose leaf.

His phone was ringing and he ignored it until it stopped and started ringing again. And when he went to answer it, he saw Vilde's name, and tried to ignore it again.

But he couldn't. He could never ignore Vilde for long.

“What, Vilde, I have class in fifteen minutes,” he said, wrapping his scarf around his neck as he walked outside.

“The class with Even Bech Næsheim, right?” she asked, voice shrill even over the phone. “That's who I'm calling to talk about actually! How lucky!”

“Why are you calling me to talk about Even Bech Næsheim?” he asked. “I barely know the guy.”

“You told me you thought he was hot,” she said.

“I was drunk,” he said, face heating up completely on its own accord, “and that was a long time ago. And that doesn't mean I know him, just that I find his face and body objectively attractive. What do you _want_ , Vilde?”

“Do you think you can get me an invite to the party he and his roommates are throwing in their house? Please, Isak, pretty please?”

“I don't think you need an invitation, Vilde, I think you can just show up. Those parties are huge.”

“That's so _rude_ , Isak, honestly. That's someone's home, I'm not gonna just barge in. Please just talk to him, I know you can get me invited. Please. _Please_. I'll owe you!”

“Owe me what?”

“A favor, Isak, will you please just do it?”

He sighed, knew that if the time came and he didn't feel like it he could just tell Vilde he asked and Even said yes, and said, “Fine. I'll text you later, okay?”

She squealed. He didn't like it when she did that. “Thank you so _much_ , Isak, you really are a complete and total _life_ saver. Talk to you! Bye-bye!”

Isak tucked his phone into his pocket and opened the door to the sociology building. Psychology was in the first-floor lecture hall and Isak took a seat in the middle, unloading his backpack onto the tabletop and looking up with a start when someone sat next to him.

“Hi, Even,” he said.

“Hi there,” Even said, setting his backpack down between them and smiling brightly. “How was your coffee this morning? And your first class?”

“Good,” Isak said. “Good, good, they were both good. Um. How about you?”

“I just had coffee,” Even said. “No class, but good coffee.”

Isak didn't know how to act around Even because he didn't know what Even wanted from him. He didn't know what Even _got_ from this odd, single-class friendship they had, didn't know what they had in common or why Even always sat down next to him when they couldn't have been more different and shouldn't have enjoyed each others' company as much as they did.

“Hey, uh, before I forget,” Isak said, turning a bit in his seat to look at Even, who was looking expectantly back. “A friend of mine was hoping she could come to your party on Friday? Um, I guess she heard about it from someone and didn't want to show up... uninvited.”

Even smiled. “Of course she can come. You can bring any of your friends.”

“Oh, me?” Isak asked, pointing at his chest.

“Well of course _you're_ invited, Isak, you're my psychology buddy.”

Isak willed his cheeks not to redden because Even had said absolutely nothing that would warrant that reaction. “Oh. Thanks, but, uh, I can't come, actually.”

Even's face changed, ever so slightly, and Isak didn't know what to call it and he didn't have time to figure it out before it passed. “Really? That sucks. Big plans? Big date?”

Isak laughed a little. “No, no date. Just... a chemistry exam next Tuesday. That I should probably... you know, pass.”

“Well,” Even said, “if you change your mind, you're always welcome. Bring whoever you want. And tell your friend she can bring anyone, too, we don't really keep track of numbers.”

“Cool,” Isak said. “She'll appreciate that. Thanks.”

“And maybe if you can free up some time next week, you can help me with some of the stuff that'll be on the midterm?” Even asked. “I could buy you coffee, or lunch. Just study some?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Isak said with a smile. “I'll check to see when I'm free when I get home.”

“Great,” Even said. “You have my number?”

“I do,” Isak said with a firm nod. Their texts back and forth were arbitrary and at odd intervals and about strange things. Things that Isak hadn't really thought that Even Bech Næsheim, with all his reputations and associations, would be sending him, like memes from 2012 or quick texts to gauge how his day was going.

“Sweet,” Even said, as the lecture hall lights dimmed and the professor took his place at the front of the room. “Just let me know. Any help at all would be... much appreciated, this is not an easy class for a film major.”

Sometimes Even just... said things, that were total reminders that they were from fundamentally different spheres. Even was taking psychology because the university required it for graduation. Isak was taking it because he found it fascinating. And that was _okay_ , he didn't think he was _better_ just because he understood psychology on the first go-round, if anything he felt inferior to the legend that was Even Bech Næsheim. Because Even had his slow-mo squad walks, his wild parties, those rumors of a different person in bed with him every weekend. That wasn't Isak and that wasn't his life.

They sat in silence until class ended, and then Even spoke up as they were packing their stuff, closing his notebook on an empty page that'd been opened since he sat down. Isak eyed it a bit, then focused on Even's words.

“The party's gonna be great,” he was saying. “Friday, I mean. If you... if you want to come, you... obviously don't have to. But... I mean, if you decide you need a break from studying, just... show up. I'll save you a beer.”

Isak smiled. Charming Even. It worked on Isak like it worked on everybody.

“Okay,” he said, almost absolutely positive that he _wouldn't_ be showing up. He'd socially extended himself in high school, now that he was in college the thought of crowded parties with a million strangers made him sink deeper into his sweatpants/hoodie fortress and start another episode of _Narcos_. “Thanks, Even.”

As promised, the apartment was blessedly silent as Isak pushed the door open after biology. Eva had a tendency to surround herself with the greatest amount of people she could fit in their living room, and hardly a day went by when he didn't have all five girls in Eva's high school clique surrounding his coffee table.

Eva's coffee table. In Eva's apartment, that she just let him stay in so that he could pretend to be a functioning member of society, someone who pays rent and lives quasi-independently.

He loved and appreciated Eva, but he resented how together her life was. Because while he sat hunched over a desk most hours of most days, struggling to pay even half his rent and unable to contribute more than a bag of Doritos to the pantry's inventory, Eva had dropped out of college and secured a high-paying management training job as she waited tables at a reservations-only restaurant in town central. He loved Eva, and was tolerable of her success, but sometimes he wished he was her instead.

His phone rang as soon as he closed the door behind him and he figured Vilde wouldn't quit so he answered it.

“Hi, Vilde.”

“Hi, Isak! I hope you've had a wonderful day! I was wondering if you had the chance to talk to Even Bech Næsheim today?”

“Why do you call him Even Bech Næsheim every time you talk about him?” Isak asked, opening the refrigerator door because he'd forgotten to bring money for lunch on campus. “He's not a movie star. It's not like Neil Patrick Harris where you have to say all three names every time you talk about him. He's just Even.”

“He's the most beautiful, popular guy in the whole university!” Vilde said, affronted.

“I thought you outgrew that, Vilde,” he said. He picked up a low-fat strawberry yogurt for a moment and set it back on the shelf, pushing it to the side so he could look past it. Eva always bought the weirdest conglomerate of shit from the grocery store.

“Well I'm obviously not going to _sleep_ with him,” she said. “It won't be another repeat of the William fiasco, if that's what you're hinting at. On account of the whole _lesbian_ thing, in case you've forgotten.”

“No, I haven't forgotten,” Isak said. “And I never will, either, because you vividly described what it's like to go down on a girl, and that stays with gay guys.”

“I was excited, okay? And, anyways, that's not what I'm talking about. Although pussy is better than dick, but it's not about that! Isak, focus. Did you talk to Even?”

“Yeah,” Isak said, grabbing an apple and closing the fridge. “Yeah, I talked to him. He said you can go and to bring whoever you want.”

“Yay! Oh, Isak, _thank_ you. This means the world.”

“Glad I could help. Hope you become the most popular girl in school. Bye, Vilde.”

“Bye, Isak, tell Eva hi from me!”

Isak hung up and took a bite from the apple, kicking his shoes off in front of the door as part of their growing pile and going to the hamster's cage in the living room, tapping on the metal and staring at the animal.

“Hi, Amadeus,” he said. The hamster was waking blearily from the sleep Isak had just interrupted, blinking one eye open. “I kind of hate you. Do you want some apple?” He pinched some off between his teeth and held it through the bars so that Amadeus could scamper to him and rip it from his grasp just to bury it in the shredded newsprint and fall back asleep in his food bowl. “Idiot,” Isak breathed, straightening up and taking his backpack from the kitchen table on his way to his bedroom.

It was after an hour of homework that his phone pinged loudly through the bluetooth speaker he'd borrowed (stolen) from Jonas, and he jumped and scratched a long line in blue ink through his chemistry study guide. In irritation, he checked his messages, ready to be mad at whichever one of his so-called friends had messed up his focus and aesthetic, but when he saw Even's name on the screen he couldn't bring himself to be _too_ mad. He was a nice guy, and Isak barely knew him, and it's hard to be mad at nice guys you barely know. Besides, Even's the kind of person who makes everyone desperate for his approval. Isak _wanted_ Even to like him, to think he was a cool guy, like everyone else in the school did. And if Isak thought he was attractive and a little _tiny_ bit sexy, then that wasn't a reason. Didn't even contribute. Because everyone who met Even wanted him to like them, and Isak was no exception in the same way Vilde wasn't. He just wasn't going to let Even _know_ that, the guy's ego should've been the size of Russia anyways with how much admiration he gathered in an aura around him. And Isak wasn't going to be one of the desperate admirers that didn't stand a chance. He had better things to do.

He picked up his phone and read the message. _Had any luck finding a day to study? No pressure xx_

Isak put his palm on the open pages of his planner and pulled it down in front of him so he could check the messes of sticky notes and hastily-scrawled homework assignments for a free afternoon. _How's next Wednesday?_ he wrote. _Four o'clock?_

The response was immediately and Isak could almost _see_ Even's face behind the screen, the smiling expression contributing to his words. _Perfect! You're a lifesaver Isak. I owe you dinner ;)_

 _Glad I could help_ , Isak wrote back, and queued Spotify back up to tap the back of his pen to the beat. He had a good three hours before Eva returned, and he was going to make the most of it before he wasn't allowed in the kitchen and had to stand completely still every few minutes because, “Shit, I lost track of Amadeus, don't step on him, Isak!” and he wasn't eager to crush any loose hamster underfoot, regardless of how annoying he found the damn thing.

His friends called him boring. They blasted him in the group chat and begged him to come to parties. But he didn't care. Boring was what he needed, boring was safe. Boring was routine and it was predictable and it was calm. After all the shit in high school, after watching his family break apart, after hiding his sexuality and being forced out of the closet anyways, he wanted something boring. Something that he could count on to always be the same. That was college for him, it was time-consuming and exhausting and it was rarely surprising. Eva was always drunk, Vilde was always shrieking, Sana was always better than him.

And he knew that when Eva got home, she'd bring something delicious from work, something that he'd never for the rest of his life be able to afford if he actually had to buy it. She'd let the hamster out of his cage and he'd run around and get lost under the TV stand and they'd both shuffle around without lifting their feet until he reemerged and put their minds at ease. They'd eat on the floor in front of the couch, takeout on the coffee table and a cup of water each, and they'd watch an episode of _Friends—_ they were on season 4, now—before bed. He knew she'd take a shower and fog the bathroom mirror and take too long and get hair everywhere, he knew she'd refill Amadeus's water bottle and give him some peanuts, he knew she'd kiss his cheek before she headed to bed because if she'd had plans that night she'd have told him and begged him to join in, because that was a reliable timeline, too. And he'd stay up because he wouldn't be able to fall asleep if he tried. He'd plug his headphones in and listen to Cat Stevens because it was more relaxing than NWA, he'd brush his teeth and comb his hair and change from jeans into sweatpants. He'd start studying for the upcoming chemistry midterm and then fall asleep at his desk for an hour before dragging himself half-consciously to his bed and laying down.

It was always that way and it was always certain, always sure.

And he liked it like that. He wanted it to be like that. He didn't want it to change, and he feared the time when it would. Because it always would.

  
+

“I haven't read a book since I was, like, eight years old,” Magnus was saying in a whisper.

“Then write a report on that,” Jonas answered from across the table.

“I can't write a report on the Judy Blume I stole from my sister for a college book report,” Magnus protested.

“Why not?” Mahdi asked in a similar whisper. “You'll seem down to earth, you know. Like, this was my favorite book from my childhood and now even after all the _other_ books I read, it's still my favorite.”

“How the hell do I write that?” Magnus asked.

“The lessons you learned from that book when you were eight years old have stuck with you all that time, or some shit,” Mahdi said dismissively.

“Or just read another book,” Jonas said. “You seriously didn't read any of the books in high school?”

“I didn't like being _told_ to read them,” Magnus whispered. “Why, were some of them good?”

“Yeah, man,” Mahdi said. “Like, _East of Eden._ Or, I don't know, _Lord of the Flies._ ”

“Or... what's that one about the dystopian world?” Jonas asked.

“ _1984_ , shit, yeah!” Mahdi said. “Of course you would like that, with all your government-hating and conspiracy theories.”

“ _The Stranger,_ ” Jonas suggested.

“What the hell, did you read all those fucking books in high school? I remember being assigned, like, one of those,” Magnus said, whispers steadily increasing in volume since the start of their conversation.

“Yeah, man, we were supposed to read all those books in high school,” Jonas said. “What the hell were you doing with your time? How'd you get into college?”

“Luck and a compelling essay about a mother with mental illness. _Bam._ Entrance into the public health program.”

“Oh my God,” Isak finally said, looking up from his textbook. “Shut up.”

“We were helping Mags,” Jonas said.

“Believe it or not, loudly whispering while you're sitting six inches away from me doesn't stop me from hearing you,” Isak said. “We're in a library, don't you have any work to do?”

“I have to write a book report on Judy Blume,” Magnus said.

“Don't do that,” Isak said.

“What?” Magnus asked, face paling. “But Mahdi said it was a good idea!”

“Just read something short! Jesus. Read _The Catcher in the Rye_ and then write about how whiny he was. Read _Animal Farm_ and talk about corruption of the elite. I don't care. But I really doubt your professor will be impressed by _Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing._ ”

“It's _Superfudge_ ,” Magnus mumbled, sinking back in his chair. “Damn. Can I borrow a book, then, Isak?”

“We're in a fucking _library,_ Magnus, just go find something!”

Magnus glanced around, seemed to decide that standing up and moving from position wasn't worth it, and said, “Nah. I'll figure it out.”

Isak didn't know why he did this. He was never able to study with his friends in high school, so he didn't know what compelled him to believe things would be different this time around. But Isak never went to parties, never wanted to go to bars, to clubs, so this was how they spent their time together.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and his concentration was already broken so he pulled it out and glanced at the name.

“Who is it?” Magnus asked, watching him. Isak looked across the table and unlocked the phone.

“Eskild,” he answered.

_Hi there baby gay we miss you! Well Linn doesn't and Noora sees you all the time but I miss you!_

He figured his chances of actually getting anything done were already out the door, so he wrote back. _Well hi and tell Linn hi too._

Noora had been planning to move into Eva's spare room when she got her apartment the summer before classes began. Because the kollektiv was overcrowded and Noora had the parental support to pay the higher rent that being closer to the university required, unlike Isak who sometimes made a few dollars from informal tutoring sessions. But at the last minute, Isak asked them if he could take the spare room, instead. He didn't say it was because some of the worst years of his life were lived out in the kollektiv, that even though he'd found a family in his roommates it wasn't enough to wash the memories away. And he didn't have to say it, because Eva didn't ask, and Noora didn't protest. It'd been a semester and a half and Isak was making a new life and new memories, and it was working. He still got sad sometimes, angry sometimes. But it was getting better, and he wouldn't forget the people who helped him feel love in the first place.

“What's Eskild up to?” Jonas asked.

“Eksild,” Magnus said with a laugh.

“Esssskild,” Mahdi chanted.

“He just said he misses me,” Isak said. “I don't know, I think he misses giving me advice I didn't ask for. He tends to do that.”

“He helped you a lot, bro, don't downplay that,” Jonas said. “You never would've come out to me if it wasn't for Eskild.”

“Eksild,” Mahdi murmured.

“Eskild,” Magnus hummed with a nod.

“That was actually the school doctor,” Isak said. “So you have her and her giant dildos to thank for that.”

“I always like to thank giant dildos,” Jonas said.

Isak checked his incoming message. _Wow I can feel the emotion. It's like you never left._ A second message said, _How's college my little butterfly?_

He owed Eskild a lot. He owed a lot of people a lot of things, he had their support when he didn't deserve it and their help when he didn't want it, he had it then and he had it now.

Eskild saved him first. Before anyone else could, Eskild was there. He picked him up from the bar and didn't make him go home, not that night or any night afterwards. Eskild saved him before he knew he needed saving, and after Eskild saved him, everyone else started to. Eva let him spend nights in her empty house when the basement got too dark and too cold and too lonely, Jonas let him stay for dinner and bought him coffee on his way to school because Isak didn't have any money of his own. When Isak was thrown out of the closet by a one-night stand, his friends stood protective around him, even as everything else fell apart, all of his carefully-constructed facades and faces. Even as everyone discovered a million things he wasn't ready to tell, he wasn't left alone.

He tapped his reply. _It's good. I'm doing well. 3.99 gpa. Hope to end with 4.0._

Those were the things that one told their father. Things that Isak couldn't tell his father.

“Can we go somewhere else?” Magnus asked. “I'm bored.”

“You're supposed to be writing your book report,” Jonas said.

“I don't have a fucking book to write it on, _Jonas_ ,” he snapped.

“Magnus we are in a goddamn _library_. Just get up and find one!”

“I don't know what's supposed to be scholarly,” Magnus said. “Come on, help me. Someone help me.”

“You're never gonna be able to live alone,” Jonas huffed, pushing his chair back from the table and standing up. “Let's go, then.”

Magnus sighed and stood, grabbing his student ID from the tabletop and tripping over his backpack on the journey around the chairs. Mahdi turned his focus back to folding a paper airplane and Isak went to answer his phone.

_I'm so proud of you! You're so smart! Gotta go, I'm at work, but visit home more often! I love youuuuu <3 <3 <3_

Isak tucked his phone into his backpack and went to continue his interrupted note-taking, eyes falling on Mahdi's hard work before dropping to his notebook. He got another ten minutes before he was hit in the shoulder with the point of a paper airplane and it became irritatingly clear that his productivity of the day had been forcibly removed and crushed underfoot.

He looked up at Mahdi, who was looking around with wide eyes. Isak crumbled the airplane between his palms and Mahdi looked over as a pained noise left his lips.

“He just broke my airplane,” he mumbled as Magnus and Jonas came back.

“What book did you get?” Isak asked Magnus.

“ _Death of a Salesman_ ,” Magnus said. “It's only, like, seventy pages.”

“Fantastic,” Isak said, eyes flitting up over Magnus's shoulder as someone approached them, he assumed in order to tell them to shut the fuck up since they were, in fact, in a library where people were trying to do assigned work and study for upcoming midterms, and Magnus had no voice quieter than one you would use to speak to an individual in a room full of chatting people.

“Hi, Isak,” the boy said instead, and Isak blinked up at him and said, “Hi,” like he knew who he was, because he was under the impression that he should. He felt his friends turn to him and didn't know what else to do.

“Kristian,” the kid said, blessedly, extending his hand across the table to him. “We had chemistry one together last semester.”

“Oh,” Isak said. He shook his hand. “Okay, yeah. Hi.”

“Hi. Are you taking chemistry two this semester?”

“Uh, yeah,” Isak said. “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you think you'd be willing to help me out some?” Kristian asked. “I mean, I know you were, like, master genius of intro to chemistry, so I'm assuming you're doing just as well in chem two? And I'm not, and I hate it, so maybe you can tutor me a bit? I could buy you a drink or something, in return. Buy you dinner?”

When Isak's eyes fell momentarily down to Magnus, he was biting his lip to stifle a smile and his eyebrows were raised when he caught Isak's eye. Isak furrowed his brows in return and then looked back up to Kristian, standing there expectantly in a silence that had stretched longer than Isak had intended.

“Oh,” he said, shaking himself out of the telepathic conversation Magnus was attempting to have with him. “Oh, sure. Yeah, no problem. Just reviewing stuff for midterms?”

“Yeah, great,” Kristian said. “I'll make it worth your while, totally. We can study and then go out for drinks, or something, and I'll buy.”

“No, you don't have to do that,” Isak said, brows creasing. “I'm sure it'll help me to study if I explain some of the things. It's no problem. Do you have a day that works?”

“Oh, any day,” Kristian said. “Whenever you're free. Like, next week? Wednesday or something, maybe Thursday, they have student night at the bar.”

“Um, Wednesday doesn't work,” Isak said. “I'm helping someone in psychology. But Thursday is... fine, I guess. I mean, you really don't need to buy me anything. I don't.... Helping you study helps me. So.”

“Okay, Thursday, then?” Kristian asked, waiting for Isak's confirming nod. “I'll make a note of it, then. Can I get your number?”

“Oh, sure,” Isak said, taking the phone from his outstretched hand and entering his cell and handing it back. “Just, let me know what time works, and where you want to meet.”

“Great,” Kristian said, smiling brightly. “It's a date. Thanks a ton.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Isak said, waving a bit as Kristian looked over his shoulder while he walked away.

There was some silence as Isak pulled his planner out and moved orange Post-Its to the side to make enough room on the paper to scrawl _tutor Kristian chem 2_ in Thursday's space, and he didn't notice that the silence was weird and uncharacteristic until he looked up and saw all three boys staring at him with varying amounts of amusement in their features.

“What?” he said, looking between them. “Are you gonna make fun of me for having a planner again, because I peer pressured Jonas into getting one, too, so tease him.”

“He totally doesn't know,” Mahdi said to Jonas and Magnus.

Isak's brows furrowed. “Know what?”

“So fucking oblivious,” Jonas said. “Jesus, Isak, Mags picks up hints better than you.”

“What?” Isak said. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude,” Mahdi said. “There are two weeks until midterms. Who starts studying now?”

“I do,” Isak said.

“Besides _you_ ,” Magnus said, “the master nerd of the year, no one does.”

“Well Kristian does, I guess,” Isak said.

“Yeah, because he wants to bone you,” Jonas said, and Isak's mouth fell open.

And it stayed open, and without exerting sound, for a good few seconds before he managed to demand, “Excuse me?”

“That guy wants to fuck you, Isak,” Mahdi said. “No question.”

“We practically just met!” Isak said, and then lowered his too-loud voice into a whisper when he remembered where he was. “What the fuck? He does _not_ want to fuck me.”

“No one normal studies for midterms next Thursday when they can do it the Thursday after,” Jonas said. “And he easily could've asked someone in the chem class he's in now. And he wants to buy you a drink, Isak, that's literally the clearest someone can get unless they take one of your fucking orange sticky notes and write _I wanna fuck you_ and stick it on your forehead.”

Isak looked at all of them, narrowed his eyes, and said, “I don't believe you.”

“Why not?” Magnus asked.

“Because why would someone want to fuck _me_ and go to all that fucking trouble when there's a million people who love sex and wanna have it on the daily?”

“Maybe because he's into _you_ ,” Jonas said, “like, specifically?”

“That's stupid of him,” Isak said.

“Or maybe he knows you refuse to get laid,” Mahdi said.

“I don't refuse to get laid,” Isak said, cheeks heating up. “I just have better things to do.”

“Better than sex?” Magnus asked with a scoff. “Impossible.”

“Whatever,” Isak said. “Ugh, whatever, can we just go get something to eat, or something?”

“I thought you wanted to study,” Magnus said.

“I haven't been able to study since you jackasses showed up,” Isak said. “And I know you won't quiet down now that you're under the insane impression that Kristian from chemistry wants to bone me.” He shoved his things into his backpack and stood up expectantly, as everyone stared at him. “Come on,” he said. “Let's go.”

“Okay, Isak,” Jonas said, grabbing his backpack. “Jesus, man, you're so weird about sex.”

“I'm not _weird_ about sex,” Isak said. “I just don't see why everyone has to talk about it all the time.”

Mahdi pulled his jacket on and smiled at Isak. “It's fine, man. Just because Kristian wants to fuck you doesn't mean you have to let him.”

“Oh my God,” Isak mumbled. “I'm going to McDonald's.”

“Chill,” Magnus said, putting a hand on his chest to stop him from leaving the table. “Chill, we'll stop. Jonas will even buy you french fries.”

When it came to Isak's comfort levels, Magnus often had the most tact. He also often had the least tact—it was really a decision made on an individual basis instead of an encompassing one.

“Why do _I_ have to buy him french fries?” Jonas asked as they stepped outside.

“You've been his friend for the longest,” Magnus said. “Don't you want him to be happy?”

“He can be plenty happy paying for his own french fries,” Jonas said. “It's not like he uses his money for rent.”

“Fuck you,” Isak said. “I don't have parents giving me money.”

“And you don't charge when you tutor people,” Mahdi said. “You should.”

“It just doesn't make sense to charge someone when studying with them helps _me,_ too. Like, we have the same classes, and everything.”

“Who are you tutoring on Wednesday?” Magnus asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. Isak raised his eyebrows in confusion. “You told Kristian you were studying with someone Wednesday. Who?”

“Oh, Even,” Isak said. “Bech Næsheim, we have psychology together.”

“Shit, Even Bech Næsheim,” Magnus said in awe.

“I didn't know you knew him,” Jonas said.

“I didn't think it was... important information. Why would I tell you?” Isak asked.

“I don't know, most people who're friends with Even Bech Næsheim let everyone _know_ they're friends with Even Bech Næsheim,” Jonas said with a shrug.

“First of all, why does everyone always call him Even Bech Næsheim? That's fucking weird, no one calls normal people by their full name.” He kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. “And, anyways, I didn't think you'd be impressed to know that I know him.”

“I'm not _impressed_ ,” Jonas said. “Just surprised. You seem like you're kind of... fundamentally different people.”

“Yeah, that's why I'm tutoring him, not smoking pot with him,” Isak said.

“Are you going to his party on Friday?” Magnus asked.

“No, but I'm sure you're welcome to show up,” Isak said. “Vilde already forced me to ask him for an invitation, he said she could bring whoever she wanted. Just show up with the girls.”

“Why won't you come?” Mahdi asked. “Those parties are wild, everyone wants to go.”

“I don't like parties anymore,” Isak said. “I'll be fine, I need to study for a test anyways.”

“It'll be so _fun_ , though, if you come with,” Magnus said. “I love drunk Isak, we never get to see him anymore!”

“And you never fucking will,” Isak said sternly, more forcefully than he'd intended, closing his eyes against the silence that followed. He heard Jonas mutter, “Just drop it, man,” to Magnus, and they stopped.

“Sorry,” Isak said. “I just... I don't want to go to the party. Okay? I don't want to.”

  
+

Isak went to the party.

He went to the party because Eva started crying when he said he wasn't going to, and he knew it was more because she was drunk than the idea that he was personally hurting her, but he caved anyways. Because he didn't like it when Eva cried, which she did, loudly and often. Drunk Eva was much more emotionally unstable than sober Eva. Drunk Eva watched _Ratatouille_ and cried, Drunk Eva lost Amadeus under the television stand and cried, Drunk Eva spilled wine down her shirt and cried because it was wet and then cried because she was cold. And now Drunk Eva was crying because Isak said he didn't want to go to Even's party, and Isak _knew_ that it was an irrational thing that she'd get over in two seconds without him in her sight, and he _knew_ that he'd seen it a thousand and a half times before, but somehow that knowledge didn't make it any easier to stay rooted to the spot at the kitchen table with the hamster running around in front of him chomping on carrots.

She was practically in his lap by the time he agreed, and he prided himself on just how long he'd been able to deny her until he looked at the clock in the microwave and saw that barely three minutes had passed since he uttered the words, “Have a good time, I'll be here if you need me.”

So when he stood up and started towards his room and Sana said, “You're weak, Valtersen,” he couldn't really disagree.

He changed from one t-shirt he'd stolen from Eskild into another t-shirt he'd stolen from Eskild, ran his fingers through his hair, and decided that this was as good as it was going to get. He was only going to stay for half an hour, and it's not like he was looking to impress anyone.

So he rejoined the five girls in the living room, accepted the arms that Eva threw around his neck, and let them lead him through the door and down the road.

He'd been to Even's house once before. At one of the first parties of the year, when Eva had similarly dragged him out of the apartment. It was large and close to campus and shared among six people that Isak hadn't known. He'd since met Yousef, Sana's unsubtle admirer, and Elias, Sana's attractive older brother. And Even, of course, both because they'd talked a bit at the party and then found themselves in the same psychology lecture later on. And he didn't really know _when_ or _how_ Even had acquired his phone number, but their acquaintanceship had grown into some semblance of friendship, at this point, thanks to that acquisition.

“Babe,” Eva said, when they were outside the house, already positively swarmed with people, music so loud the bass could be felt a block away.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking nervously at the house, windows lit up in different colors and cars lining the street.

“Isak,” she said.

“Yes, Eva, what can I do for you?” he asked, turning to look at her and raising his eyebrows.

“Is Jonas coming?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think so. I think all the boys are coming.”

“Can you—” she cut herself off with a hiccup and said, “Can you text him?”

“I guess,” he said, because if she did it'd come out as an incomprehensible string of letters and numbers in various stages of capitalization and followed by too many emojis. “What do you want me to ask?”

“If he's here yet,” Eva said. “If he's coming and then... if he is coming I want to know if he's already here.”

“Alright,” he said. “Got it. Thanks for that description, though, it was helpful.” He gently pushed her into Chris's arms and watched as Chris murmured weird things to her and stroked her hair, taking his phone from his pocket and texting Jonas. _I'm outside Even's house with the girls. Are you guys coming?_

Vilde was chugging a bottle of wine and Noora was examining her pristine fingernails and Sana was texting someone with a smile on her face and then looking up at the house with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. What a mystery as to who she was waiting to see. When she caught him looking she flipped him off fondly, looking down at her phone in some kind of... shyness, maybe, he didn't think he'd ever seen Sana Bakkoush as anything but badass and completely confident, but there wasn't much give in this new expression.

 _You're here???_ the first text said. The second said, _Bro!!!_ and the third, _We're almost there, we'll meet you out front?_

“Do you want to wait for Jonas and Mags and Mahdi?” Isak asked the group of girls behind him, and Eva squealed, “Yes! Jonas! Mahdi! He has such a _butt_ , Isak, Mahdi has such a butt.”

“That's... accurate,” Isak said, because as far as he knew Mahdi possessed an ass, like most people did.

“And Magnus, _ugh_ , he's so adorable, I love his _face_.”

“That's fantastic,” Isak said. “I'll text them.”

She let out a little whoop and stumbled backwards, and Noora steadied her and smiled when Eva looked up guiltily. Her face broke into a drunken smile and Isak sent a text to Jonas confirming the proposed plans.

“Noora,” Eva said, turning around, standing on her own for a moment, and tapping Noora's nose with her finger. She stumbled pretty immediately after that and Sana kept her upright. “And Sana!” Eva said, turning into the warmth of her chest like an infant, or a well-mannered cat. “Sana Banana. I love you. I love all of you! I love everyone!”

“Oh my God,” Isak said. “Should I take her home?”

“If you take me home I'll let Amadeus chew out your eyeballs while you're sleeping,” Eva said, stumbling in place. “I know he wants to.”

“I feel like I'd wake up and... stop that kind of behavior,” Isak said.

Sana set Eva on her own two feet and then Vilde and Chris bracketed her to keep her that way. “Is this going to take much longer?” Sana asked, tapping her foot and glancing at the house.

“Why?” Isak asked. “Is there someone you're in a rush to see?”

“I'll kill you, Valtersen.”

“That's illegal,” Isak said. “And a sin. And just downright mean.”

“I'm a pretty mean person,” Sana said. “I wouldn't doubt the lengths I'd go to.”

“You'd kill me to stop me from talking about Yousef?” Isak asked, and Sana just shrugged, like she totally would and just didn't want to say it out loud so that it couldn't be corroborated. “How would you do it?” Isak asked. “How would you kill me?”

“Well you never leave your fucking apartment so it'd have to be something that could happen at home,” she said. “Some very terrible accident. Like you fell down the stairs. Or out the window. Or you drank bleach or something. By accident. Because that feels like something you would do.” Which—no, he was a nineteen-year-old biochem student, not a four year old without child locks. “How about you?” Sana asked. “How would you kill me?”

“What kind of conversation is this?” Noora asked.

“One that I want to be a part of,” Chris said. “I think I'd make Isak choke on some food, or something. Lonely hermits die all the time by choking on food.”

Isak made an indignant noise. “I'm not lonely! And I'm not a hermit.”

“We literally never see you anywhere but your apartment,” Chris said.

“And you're always in sweatpants,” Noora said.

“I don't see what's wrong with that,” Isak said.

“They make your ass look like a trash bag of mashed potatoes,” Chris said. “You need to show off that perky butt in a good pair of jeans.”

“Inappropriate,” Isak said.

“Those ones are good,” Chris said with a wink.

“Inappropriate!” Isak said, stomping his food like a child.

“Hey girls!” came a loud cry, and they turned around to see Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus walking towards them. “And Issy K,” Jonas added, clapping him on the back as he approached. “Glad you came.”

“Eva started crying, so.” He shrugged and watched Eva squeal, “Jonas!” and fall into his arms.

“Hey, man,” Mahdi said. “You got bullied into coming?”

“It was guilt,” Isak said. “I'll only stay for a while and then I'll get home. I just wanted to make Eva happy, and she'll forget about me in about ten seconds, as soon as she's through that door. She zones in on the alcohol and any pair of lips.”

“That's because _Eva_ knows how to have fun,” Mahdi said.

Isak scoffed. “I have plenty of fun.”

“You just told me your plan to immediately leave the party.”

“I have... _enough_ fun,” Isak amended. “Can we just go inside so I can leave?”

“God, you're like, master of a good time, aren't you?” Mahdi said.

It was crowded and terrible inside. It was filled with smoke and people and flashing lights and alcohol. And Isak regretted going the moment he set foot through the door.

But he followed his friends, anyways, followed everyone as they squeezed one by one through the crowd of dancing bodies in the living room to emerge on the other side, in the large kitchen, almost empty with plenty of room for the nine of them.

Within four minutes he was left alone.

Sana left first, practically instantaneously, going upstairs to catcalls from her friends so that she could drag Yousef from his bedroom, because Yousef was someone calm and sane but outnumbered by the rest of his roommates and unable to stop giant parties from happening. Eva left next, trailed by Noora, who was adopting her usual duties of babysitter in order to keep bad things from happening for long enough to be able say that she tried her best. Vilde, Chris, and Magnus made their way to the makeshift dance floor as soon as they'd replenished their alcoholic beverage of choice, and Mahdi saw a pretty girl from his English class and charged through the crowd to talk to her without so much as a goodbye. Jonas tried to stay, Isak could tell that he was _trying_ , but Isak knew that Jonas would be bored out of his goddamn mind if they stayed together—because Isak's plan for the night consisted of little more than what he was doing right at that moment—so he just smiled when Jonas said he was gonna go buy weed and that they'd catch up later. They wouldn't catch up later. Isak would stay for ten more minutes, just to say he did, and then make his escape.

Except _that_ wouldn't happen either, because why the hell would anything go his way tonight. He'd already had to change his clothes and leave his apartment and walk inside his worst nightmare of a house party, so why shouldn't this happen, too?

“Isak!” Even said, just as he was about to leave. And Even had this tendency to draw out encounters, any encounter, no matter the brevity that could be enforced. A simple text asking what the homework was in psychology—because Even had never once written anything down in that class, Isak was sure of it—turned into a three-hour long discussion about Netflix or memes or the preferences of cats versus dogs. And then they'd go a week without talking except for greetings in class, and then Even would text him some dumb, thirty-year-old Seinfeld screenshot, and it'd start over.

“Hey, you came!” Even said, stepping up close to him. “You should've told me! I would've been a better host if I'd known you were coming.”

“No, it's okay,” Isak said. “I've only been here for a second. And you invited a lot of people.”

“I'm not as excited about them,” Even said with a smile, and Isak smiled back without quite knowing why. “Do you want a beer?” Even asked, holding his hand out towards the refrigerator's handle, waiting for the go-ahead to open it.

“No, thanks,” Isak said.

“We have plenty,” Even offered.

“No, I just... I don't drink. Uh, anymore.”

“Oh,” Even said. “Then can I get you some water, or a soda, or something?”

Isak didn't really have the heart to tell him he was leaving soon to go home, because Even looked so _excited_ to be interacting with him, so he just said, “Yeah, do you have Coke?” and accepted that he'd be here for a while.

“Plenty of Coke,” Even said, opening the fridge. “Yousef doesn't drink either, do you know Yousef? He's the one who stocks the fridge with sodas.”

“Yeah, I know Yousef,” Isak said. Even handed him the Coke can. “Thanks. He's dating my friend Sana. Or... he wants to be dating my friend Sana, or something, I'm not really sure where they're at right now.”

“Oh, yeah, I'm well aware of whatever the hell's going on with the two of them,” Even said. “It's confusing and weird and I wish they'd just make a decision because Yousef is basically useless whenever she's around.”

“To be fair, Sana's a pretty intimidating girl,” Isak said, leaning back against the counter and bringing his soda can to his lips. Even was watching him intently, smile soft on his lips. “I've known her since high school, and she hasn't stopped scaring me. And making me feel inferior.”

Even laughed. “You could never be inferior.”

Isak watched him for a moment, because this was supposed to be where Even was most in his element. That's what the rumors said, that's what the people said. That's what Vilde said, but here Even was, looking something akin to nervous even surrounded by people who wanted him, who wanted to know him, who wanted to be him. “You say weird things, Even.”

He laughed again and said, “Yeah, that's true. But I'm just... I'm glad you came.”

“Yeah it's not a party without your psych tutor there,” Isak said.

Even smiled a bit, but his face had taken on that look he sometimes got, when he was talking to Isak. Something that Isak never read into because it wasn't his business and he knew what it was like to have people take information that wasn't theirs to have.

“Hey, so you don't drink,” Even said, “but do you smoke?” He pulled a joint from his pocket and Isak smiled.

The porch was empty because there weren't any rules against smoking in the house. But Isak didn't question why they went outside when they didn't have to, because anything that took him away from the crowd and the people and the godawful music that drummed up way too loud in his ears was welcome.

He watched Even light the joint, watched the flame illuminate his face for a flickering second, shadows morphing, before he took a long drag in and passed it over. Isak blushed because he'd been staring, blushed because this was _Even_ , Even who was supposed to so popular and sure of himself, so composed and confident, Even who sent him ancient memes and stumbled over his words and didn't pay attention in psychology. Even who was a paradox but it didn't matter because the face he showed Isak was so much sweeter than the face he showed the world, and Isak didn't overthink the reason for that because he was tired from overthinking everything else.

“Is there a reason you don't drink?” Even asked. “If I can ask that?”

“I just... drank a little too much in high school,” Isak said with a shrug, tapping ash off the end of the joint and steadfastly not looking at Even's face. “And I guess I decided I didn't want to be that person here.” So apparently now it only took a few pulls on a joint for him to start spilling shit he didn't like for people to know. Or maybe it was just because he never quite knew what to say to Even, because Even's interest in him was odd and something difficult to understand.

“I can understand that,” Even said. “I think it's cool that you stopped, then. I'm... bad at following my instincts.”

“Yeah?” Isak asked, smiling and blowing out a breath of smoke as he looked up at Even. “You also have bad taste in movies.”

“Hey,” Even said, pointing at him. “Criticize my life choices all you want, but you better not criticize Baz Luhrmann.”

“I don't know who that is,” Isak told him, handing the joint back.

Even gasped, in that affronted way he did, and said, “ _Romeo + Juliet_?” he asked.

“Well I've heard of _that_ ,” Isak said, rolling his eyes. “But not because of Baz Luhrmann. Because it's, like, a famous play.”

“And a great movie,” Even said. “Claire Danes? Or Leonardo DiCaprio if she doesn't float your boat?”

Isak laughed. “You read me right.”

“Yeah?” Even asked. “That's good. Were you able to get a read on me?”

“Based on about a million rumors of you I've heard,” Isak said. “I don't think it's fair to call that a 'read', it's more like... listening.”

“Mm,” Even said, flicking ash to the floor. “What rumors are those?”

“Ones I don't believe,” Isak said. “That you're a player. That you're a fuckboy.” Even raised his eyebrows and Isak smiled. “Okay, I believe it a little bit. But mostly I've heard that you'll sleep with anyone, gender doesn't matter.”

“I guess that has some good and some bad connotations,” Even said.

“I don't think sex is so bad,” Isak said, and, _wow_ , this kush was really loosening his tongue, wasn't it? Sex wasn't something he _ever_ talked openly about, not even with his friends, not even with the guys he slept with. Definitely not with a boy he talked to twice a week.

“Yeah?” Even asked in amusement. “I mean, sex is great, I can agree with that. Maybe it's the reputation I don't much like.”

“Don't like being known as the guy who bangs everyone?” Isak asked with a smile.

Even laughed. “It does make me seem cooler.”

“Yeah, a lot of people here don't know that you're a complete dork,” Isak said. “A dork who sends... Seinfeld memes and talks for an hour about Louis C.K.”

“Wow,” Even said, grinning. “You remember that. I wish you didn't.”

“No that was a... rare form of higher thinking,” Isak said with a laugh. “I don't get much of that from my friends. You're nothing if not passionate. I guess most people see a different side of your passion.”

“You're _high_ , Valtersen,” Even said around a laugh, and Isak laughed, too, because he was. He _was_ high, and he liked it. He rarely got high anymore, he didn't make the time for it, but this was nice. Calming and comfortable, and Even's presence was something easy, something natural even though there was no logical _reason_ for it to feel natural. Isak didn't like it when reality defied logic, he didn't like it when he didn't understand. He didn't like when he was without control.

But the pot took the edge off of what would usually have him stewing in discomfort, trying to figure out a reason, a logical explanation.

“So you live here with who?” Isak asked. “Yousef and Elias and who else?”

“Three more friends of ours from high school. Mikael, Adam, and Mutta.”

“That's a lot of people.”

“It's a pretty big house. Four bedrooms.”

“Are you rich?”

Even burst out laughing, plucked the joint from Isak's fingers, and said, “No, not rich. We're just... able to pay the rent when we split it six ways.”

“Why are you laughing at me?” Isak asked, unable to not smile back.

“No, you're just... you're different than you are in class,” Even said. “You remind me more of, like, how we first met, at that other party you came to. Or the way you text me. I don't know, it's nice. To have you talking to me.”

“I always talk to you,” Isak said.

“Yeah, about psychology,” Even said. “Or, like, formalities. But when you text me you're all... funny and stuff. I don't know. I just like talking to you like this. You're a... cool guy.”

“Am I?” Isak asked.

“Yeah,” Even said. “You are.”

Isak nodded. “Okay.”

Even laughed. “You're... good with that?”

“Yeah, I don't know, you called me cool,” Isak said with a shrug. “I'd be an idiot to dispute that, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Even said, looking endlessly amused. “I've never seen you so... chill. So relaxed.”

“Yeah, pot tends to do that,” Isak said.

“You're so snarky,” Even said. “You're never this snarky to my face. Only over text when you're dragging my playlists.”

“You're kind of intimidating face to face,” Isak said. “With your _reputation_.”

“Wow, you said that so ominously,” Even said.

Isak felt floaty and warm, hazy with a wandering mind, associating words with each other in his head and losing track of the conversation. A thought was there for a second, fleeting, a thought that he tried desperately to get back until he managed to hold it in the forefront of his mind, and it held up a sign that said, _Wow, Even is a really nice guy. Everyone talks about everybody that Even fucks, all of Even's reputations, but no one ever talks about how nice Even is._

“I don't know,” Isak said. “It's kind of an ominous thing. Your reputation. Reputations in general.”

“Do you have a reputation?” Even asked.

“I used to,” Isak answered. “But now I'm just the nerd. I like this much better.”

“I like that, too,” Even said, and Isak smiled.

“You're my most... weird friendship,” Isak said.

“Is that so?” Even asked.

Isak nodded. He felt a little like he was floating and a little like he was sinking, and it was at both points simultaneous and completely separate sensations. He was just happy. Relaxed. And Even was nice, so nice. Why didn't people ever talk about how nice he was? Why only how hot he was, how many girls he'd fucked, how many guys he'd fucked, how many hearts he'd broken?

“Well I'm glad I can call you my friend,” Even said.

“Me, too,” Isak agreed with a smile and a nod.

Even had another unreadable expression on his face, a different one than the earlier one, but one that Isak saw directed at him just as often. This one was matched with a smile, the other one was a cocked head and confusion.

“Are we still on for studying on Wednesday?” Even asked.

It was just... easy to talk to him. Easier than Isak always expected. It always started out stuttered on his part and smooth on Even's, but it always evolved into this with enough time. Something natural like it shouldn't be. Something natural that defied logic.

“Yeah, Wednesday,” Isak said.

“I'll buy you some food?” Even asked. “To thank you?”

“No, you don't have to,” Isak said. “Why do.... Everyone keeps offering to buy me stuff for helping them study. Is that, like, something new? Something that's supposed to happen?”

“No, I just want to,” Even said, leaning back against the porch railing and watching him.

“You want to spend money on me?” Isak asked. “Don't be dumb, it helps me study, too. I have a question, though.”

“Yeah?” Even asked.

“Have you written a single thing down all year in psychology? I've never seen you take any notes.”

“Mm, sometimes,” Even said. “I don't know, I get distracted in that class.”

“I find it interesting,” Isak said. “The way the brain works.”

“I don't want to know how my brain works,” Even said. “I kind of just want it to work the way it works, because when you _know_ the way it works you always worry about it going wrong.”

“Wow,” Isak said. “Introspective. Also gonna make it kind of hard to review.”

“That's why I owe you dinner for it,” Even said. “Cause it's not really studying when it comes to me, it's like... teaching me a full course.”

“It'll still be helpful for me,” Isak said with a smile. “Don't worry about it, Even, you don't have to buy me food. Seriously.”

The door behind them busted open and they both turned around, saw Noora holding the door open and glancing between the two of them.

“Hey, Noora,” Isak said. “Everything okay?”

“Wow, I can't believe you're still here,” she said. “I really thought you'd leave as soon as our backs were turned. Hi, I'm Noora.”

“Even.” He stepped forward to shake her hand. “Pleasure.”

“Can you take Eva home?” Noora asked Isak. “She's had enough, I think, she can barely walk, I'm sure she blacked out a long time ago.”

“Yeah, I'm on it,” Isak said, pushing himself from the porch railing to stand upright. “Where is she?”

“Out front with Sana and Yousef,” Noora said. “Can you come?”

“You can go around the house,” Even said. “Instead of walking through all those people again. Here, it's this way.” He put his hand on the small of Isak's back to urge him forward, then drew it back to himself, the contact lingering. The three of them walked down the porch and around the house, coming to the front patio and seeing Eva lolling back against Sana's arms, all three of them sitting on the steps.

Isak knelt in front of her and touched her cheek so she'd open her eyes. “Hi, Eva.”

“Hi, Isak,” she mumbled in return.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

“Can't walk,” she said, eyes falling closed. “Tired.”

“It's only a mile,” Isak said, dreading the walk already with the dead weight that Eva most certainly would be. “We can do it.”

“No,” she said, and... okay. No from Eva was a pretty powerful statement, it meant exactly what she said. When Eva said no she didn't mean _maybe_ or _keep pushing until I cave._ She meant no. She meant she wasn't moving.

“Give me your phone,” Isak said. “I'll call an Uber.”

“Broke it,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“I broke it,” Eva repeated. “Smashed it. Stepped on it. It was an accident.”

Isak looked up helplessly at Sana and Noora. “I don't have the money for it, I can't use it on my phone.”

“Can you call a taxi and then run upstairs when you get back home to get some of Eva's money?” Noora asked. “I didn't bring cash, just my card.”

“Yeah, if I left Eva in the cab as collateral, maybe, which I don't want to do,” Isak said.

“I'll request an Uber,” Even said, and everyone looked at him. “I'll pay for you.”

“Even,” Isak said, standing up.

“No, I don't mind,” Even said. “It's a mile away, that's like three bucks, it's no problem.”

“You don't have to do that,” Isak said.

“It's a party at my house,” Even said, already tapping at his phone. “It's my responsibility to make sure people get home safe.”

“Thank you, Even,” Sana said, because Isak was about to protest again and she had, apparently, gotten tired of it. “That's very nice of you.”

“It's not a problem,” he said. “Someone will be here in two minutes.”

Isak smiled at him, hoped it came off as grateful as he felt, and then told Sana, Noora, and Yousef that they didn't have to wait with him. As they went back inside, he turned to tell Even that they were okay, now, too, that he didn't need to stay, that he'd done enough to help, more than Isak could have imagined. Nice. Even was nice.

“It was really nice talking to you,” Even said, tucking his hands into his pockets and smiling at him. “I'm glad you came.”

“Me, too,” Isak said. “It wasn't horrible, like I thought it'd be.”

“Well that's great,” Even said with a laugh. Eva made a little noise, cuddling up to the side of the house to support her weight, and Isak crouched down and tugged her into his side, instead. “I hope you come to the next one,” Even said.

Isak laughed a little. “I wouldn't count on it. The amount of collective effort that went into getting me out of the apartment today was pretty large.” That was... mostly a lie, because all that really had to happen was for his roommate to start crying for him to cave, but a lot of people had tried convincing him before that decision-making occurrence. “But it was fun,” Isak said. “You were fun.”

“Thanks,” Even said, that unreadable look, the first one, on his face.

A car drove up, and Isak pulled Eva to her feet with a bit of difficulty, but got her up before Even was able to offer his assistance like he was clearly attempting to do.

“Thank you,” Isak said, turning to Even. “For the night and the car and... everything. Really. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah it was... my pleasure, Isak, I always enjoy talking with you.” Even moved forward to open the back door of the car for them, and smiled at the driver.

Isak maneuvered Eva into the seat, buckled her in, and turned to Even one more time. “I'll see you in psychology?”

“See you in psychology,” Even said with a nod, smiling. “Have a good night, Isak.”

“You too,” Isak said, closing Eva's door and rounding the car, getting in and waving to Even as they pulled away.

“He's cute,” Eva murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, that's what everyone says,” Isak said. “Are you okay? Do I have to take you to the hospital?”

“No hospital,” she mumbled. “I'm fine. Wanna nap.”

“Okay, we can nap,” Isak said. “I'll put you to bed when we get home, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

“I love you,” she said.

“I need you to stay awake for me now, though.”

“Even was so nice to you,” she said, eyes closed. “Everyone says he's a player, so why was he so nice to you?”

“I don't know,” Isak said. “I can't see him ever being mean to anybody. Maybe he's just... misjudged, or something, I mean you sleep around and you're not a player.”

“That's because I get called a slut,” she said.

“Well you're not a slut, though. So why is he a player just cause people say he is?”

“You're defending him a lot.”

“He's my friend,” Isak said. “Kind of. He's never been anything but totally kind to me.”

“That's cause you got a pretty face,” she said. “Oh, Issy! We're home. Thank you, bald man! You're so nice to drive us home.”

“Jesus,” Isak said. “I'm sorry,” he told the driver. “Um, my friend ordered the ride, I think he's paid for it on his card?”

“Yeah, you're good to go,” the man said. “Have a good night. Are you... okay taking her up to your flat?”

“I'll manage,” Isak said. “Thanks.”

When he had Eva standing on the sidewalk, he heard her ask, “How did Even Bech Næsheim know our address?” and he didn't know what to answer, because he didn't know the answer.

“Let's get you in bed,” he said instead, and Eva smiled and kissed his cheek all wet and sloppy, and they went inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your feedback is much appreciated! i'm on tumblr at [supermansplaining](https://supermansplaining.tumblr.com/), feel free to come to me with comments or questions!


	2. Khalid: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hi everybody <3 i've obviously got a lot to say but i'm going to wait until the end notes to say it. for now, enjoy this chapter in which mikael is a cat lady and even has no chill :) this and chapter one were originally supposed to be together, but it got too long and i had to cut it. that's why this update was so quick.

**EVEN**

“Yousef?” Even said, hurrying downstairs with his hair in complete disarray and his flannel fanning out behind him. “Did you make coffee?”

“Yes, you damn freeloader,” Yousef said, moving past him with a thermos. “It's in the pot. I've gotta go, a bunch of kindergarteners are waiting for their favorite teacher.”

“Favorite teaching assistant. And I'm not a freeloader for drinking from our communal, family coffeepot.”

“What are you doing up?” Yousef asked, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter.

“It's Tuesday,” Even said, filling a mug with coffee.

“Oh, I forgot Tuesdays are _stare at the pretty nerd_ days. Have fun. I'll be home at six.”

“Bye,” Even said, putting two pieces of bread in the toaster and bringing the brim of his mug to his lips. He used to wake up early every day, and then he got to college. Now he woke up for his ten o'clock psych class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the class he'd intended to drop until he got there and saw the most beautiful boy in the world. The most beautiful boy in the world who wouldn't give him the time of day but gave him a reason to leave the house before noon, because college had destroyed his sunny disposition at eight in the morning, but Isak Valtersen brought it back.

The toast popped from the toaster as soon as he realized they were out of butter, so he took a dry bite that sucked and washed it down with his coffee.

“Bro,” Mikael said, walking downstairs and rubbing his eyes. “Coffee?”

“In the pot,” Even answered. “Nice outfit.”

“Fuck you,” he said, padding to the counter in his basketball shorts and Christmas sweater. “It's cold.”

“Are you gonna change before class?”

“I haven't decided yet,” Mikael said. “I'm going back to bed. Have fun ogling your pretty blonde.” He took his coffee and retreated back upstairs as Even tied his shoes in the kitchen chair.

“I don't ogle him,” he said.

“You kind of ogle him,” Mikael called from the second floor. “Later, man.”

Even filled a _Walking Dead_ to-go cup with coffee, added cream and sugar, and grabbed his house keys even though there was a zero percent chance that the house would be locked or empty when he got home. With six inhabitants, there was rarely a vacant room and never a vacant house, and the locked doors were all to bedroom entrances and not on the front porch. Someone was always around, and it was actually—

Helpful. Because sometimes Even needed a watchful eye, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself.

“Can you pick up some butter on your way home?”

Even looked over his shoulder at Mutta taking a huge bite of the toast Even had abandoned on his plate. “I guess,” he said. “Enjoy my breakfast, I gotta go.”

“Don't forget,” Mutta said.

“Forget what?”

“To get butter!” Mutta cried around a mouthful of dry toast.

“Dude, I know,” Even said. “Chill. I'll get it. Bye.” He went up to whichever cat was draped over the back of the couch, pet her head for the two seconds she would allow him to before scratching him, and walked out the door as Mutta called, “Have fun!”

He put his headphones in and scrolled through Spotify as he walked to the tram stop, hands in his pockets. Played Khalid and leaned against the bus shelter as he waited for the 9:40 tram, smoked a cigarette even though he'd promised Yousef he wouldn't anymore and stubbed it out in the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can to board the tram. He got a text from Mutta as he held onto the pole, reminding him to buy butter, and another from Elias asking him to text Sana and ask her about what was up with Yousef because neither of them would tell him themselves. Even ignored both and waited for his stop, smiling at an old lady as he helped her down the steps and onto the sidewalk. He put a second cigarette between his lips and told himself that this was the last one of the day, this poor substitute for the pot he wasn't supposed to be smoking, either.

He smoked outside the sociology building and watched the sidewalks for entering students. For one in particular, who probably wouldn't approve of his smoking habit considering he was planning on going into biomedical research after graduate school, and therefore probably knew all of the acute scientific difficulties that tobacco in the lungs had the potential to cause. He put out his cigarette and opened the door.

Psychology was his only morning class and it was a stupid schedule flaw that he was supposed to have changed early on in the semester, and then recklessly _hadn't_ , because he'd wound up staring at someone cute and nerdy and attentive. So instead of switching to the afternoon session, he dragged himself out of bed every Tuesday and Thursday and plopped himself down next to Isak, always next to Isak, couldn't wait for Isak to sit down after him because he was afraid the boy would choose somewhere else. Because Isak couldn't seem less interested in the idea of anything more than friendship, and selfishly Even had to hope that that was a rule he had with every pursuing guy so that it wouldn't mean that he was the exception, the one man Isak Valtersen kept rejecting over and over again.

He knew he had a certain notoriety, and he knew that everyone else knew about his certain notoriety. He wished Isak didn't know, too.

The first-floor lecture hall was mostly full with seven minutes to the start of class, and Even saw Isak sitting in the middle with an empty seat beside him and smiled.

“Hi,” he said as he sat down, watching Isak smile back as he put his phone face-down on the tabletop.

“Hey, how was your weekend?”

“Good,” Even said with a nod. “Pretty uneventful, really, Saturday was about... taking care of hungover roommates and Sunday was for cleaning our house.” He dug for his notebook in the recesses of his backpack and said, hunched over, “Did you get home okay on Friday?”

“Yeah, thanks again for that,” Isak said. Even opened the notebook on his desk to the next clean page, pathetically only eleven pages in, most of which were filled with doodles and sketches instead of notes. “My roommate wouldn't have been able to make it home without you, so thank you.”

“You said it enough, Isak,” he said with a smile. “It's okay. I was happy to do it, and I'm glad she had a good time.” He smoothed his palm over the clean page and resented how fucking awful he was doing in a class about brain chemistry and mental illness and the way the mind worked. He just couldn't fucking _focus_ in that class, and he knew exactly why, because the reason was sitting next to him. The reason had pretty, curly hair, and the reason had green eyes, and the reason was staring at him right now, waiting for a reaction to a question he'd apparently asked.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, blinking at him and watching Isak smile, and, holy shit, he could get lost in the shape of his lips.

“Nothing,” Isak said in amusement. “Just... it was fun. For both of us. So thanks for inviting me, and our friends, and stuff.”

“Maybe I can convince you to come to the next one, too,” Even said. He liked to pretend he was good at acting suave. He liked to pretend that he was charming. And he even thought that sometimes he was—a lot of times, even, maybe even a majority of the time—but around Isak he was just... someone desperately _trying_ to be suave and charming, and it seemed to be painfully obvious to everyone except for Isak. He leaned on his elbow and smiled, tried to make it sound more confident than he felt when he said, “Because you're good company.”

He could swear Isak blushed. But that could have easily been because he was remembering some of the things he'd said when he was high. Even had found it completely endearing but Isak had texted him the next morning apologizing. Which was somehow even more endearing. But, fuck, every single thing Isak did was endearing, because Even was just... gone. A little obsessed. Definitely into a boy who couldn't give a shit.

“I was so high,” Isak said. “It takes... next to nothing, now, to get me high.”

“No, it was cute,” Even said, and then wanted to close his eyes and roll under the table and out of the lecture hall. Cute was definitely something he'd use to describe Isak in his head, or to his almost equally as lame friends, but never to his face.

But Isak just blushed a bit and uncapped a pen and Even thought that maybe it wasn't too horrible, if it got this reaction. Because it seemed like Isak would never be into him, so at least he got to see some blushing as a result of his terrible and obvious flirting.

“So, tomorrow,” Isak said, looking up at him. “Where do you want to meet? To study?”

“How about the coffee shop?” Even asked, as if he hadn't been thinking and overthinking this study date since long before he gathered the courage to ask for it. “It gets quiet after the last class of the day, so maybe we can meet at six?”

“Six is fine with me,” Isak said. “Do you think it'll be enough time for you to... actually learn things?”

Even laughed. “Well when _you're_ my tutor, I bet it'll be plenty of time. You're so good at this stuff.”

“And as my reward for being good at it, I get to tutor you,” Isak said with a smile.

“Well, you know, 'with great power,' and all that.” He gave him a grin. “What movie?”

“I think I actually know that one,” Isak said.

“I would hope so,” Even said.

“Well now I'm afraid I'm going to be wrong when it's something totally obvious,” Isak said, crossing his arms over his chest and falling back in the seat.

“If you think you're right then you probably are,” Even said. “You're right in every other aspect of your life. Take a guess.”

Isak pursed his lips, looking at Even, and then said, “ _Spider-man_ , right? Tobey Maguire?”

“Very good,” Even said. “First one you've ever gotten right, I think.”

“Well if they were always about superhero movies then maybe I'd do better,” Isak said, and Even loved that bite to him, that personality behind his exterior, a face he showed that implied he was quiet and easygoing that hid his wit and his sarcasm and his cute snappy remarks. He was complicated and he was enigmatic and it was _that_ that attracted Even, more than his pretty hair and his pretty face and his pretty body. He liked that Isak said whatever the fuck he wanted whenever the fuck he wanted, when he got comfortable enough.

“I just... can't believe you've never seen _Pretty Woman_ ,” Even said.

“This conversation again?” Isak asked with a sigh that was more amused than actually annoyed. “I told you I'm not gonna watch a movie glorifying prostitution when most prostitutes are sex-trafficked teenaged girls.”

“And I told you it's _fiction_.”

Isak rolled his eyes, and, yeah, that was one of Even's favorite things in the world. It made him more endeared than argumentative, and Isak also wasn't _wrong_ , which made it harder to be defensive.

Isak's phone started vibrating on the tabletop and Isak rolled his eyes as he picked it up, leaving the impression that he knew exactly who it was that was calling. “Hi, Eva,” he sighed into the phone. “What's up?”

If Even needed any confirmation for Isak's same-sex tendencies, then he needed to look no further than Isak's reaction to his roommate's, “I'm at the gynecologist.”

Isak's horrified expression held while he demanded, “Okay?” and it took everything Even had to pretend like he wasn't listening. Because he couldn't laugh if he wasn't listening, but the volume on his phone was loud enough for him to hear every word.

“I have work after but I think I left Amadeus out so be careful when you're coming in.”

“Eva!” he said. “Do you know how gross it'd be if I stepped on your hamster?”

“So don't step on him! I've gotta go.”

Isak put his phone back down and glanced at Even, who tried to turn his head back to the front in some poor excuse of someone who hadn't been eavesdropping. When he turned back Isak was looking at him in amusement.

“So you have a hamster?” Even tried.

“My roommate has a hamster,” Isak said. “Named Amadeus.”

“That's a good movie,” Even said. “Good name.”

Isak smiled. “Oh, you're gonna love this. She didn't name him after the movie. She named him after the terrible song.”

“No,” Even said, scandalized, and Isak laughed. He had a great laugh.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don't know why Eva does most of the things that she does,” Isak said. “I don't even know when or where she got a hamster, one day it was just... there. And I went with it. I mean, she's letting me live there as a favor, over the break I was supposed to find somewhere else.” He clicked his pen open. “Do you have any pets?”

“We have three cats,” Even said. “They hate us, every single one of them.”

“Well they are cats,” Isak said, and the lights dimmed before Even could answer. The professor took his place and the projector turned on—a blue screen, then the first slide of chapter eight. And this was the only downside to waiting until Isak sat down to sit down himself; he never got time to talk to him. And he liked talking to him, but it took a while for Isak to warm up and start speaking like they were friends. And Even would consider them friends, definitely, but it was different talking to him in class about class as it was be talking after class through text, or at parties over pot. Isak didn't share too easily but when he opened up he was funny and sarcastic and would say anything at all, and that was the boy Even was borderline obsessed with. Mildly obsessed with.

He tried to focus during class. He really did, like he always did, but he _couldn't_. It wasn't just Isak's burning presence—that was certainly part of it, but not the only reason—because while the subject matter was interesting, Even just hated hearing about it. About everything that could go wrong with the mind, about everything that _had_ gone wrong in his mind. This stupid required class just constantly reminded him that he wasn't like everyone else, that he had stuff he'd like to forget about. And it was in his head, but he felt like everyone _knew._ And they couldn't, because it'd been a long time since high school, he'd reinvented himself, gotten back on track, started therapy, and he hadn't had another episode since. People remembered, he was sure that they did because who could forget, but no one talked about it. No one spread rumors across his college campus like they had among his high school peers, and he felt so close to breaking from the past completely.

And then there was this class.

This class that talked about disorders of the mind in the most respectful and educational way possible, but still rubbed Even the wrong way because it always seemed to be about him. It wasn't, it couldn't be, but it felt like it was, and it felt like everyone knew that it was.

By the time class was over, he hadn't written anything down except a blue-inked sketch of the professor. Whiskery mustache, thick-paned glasses that made his eyes look three times larger. A suit two sizes too large and a tie that was loose and askew. He was a nice guy, Even liked him. He gave an insane amount of extra credit, gave good grades for half-correct answers, and had no attendance policy. Not that Even took advantage of that, because Isak always showed up so Even always showed up, but it was still a considerate rule.

Isak was packing up beside him, but stopped to turn to him before leaving. “I'll see you at the coffeeshop tomorrow?” he asked. “Six o'clock?”

Even nodded, hoped his smile wasn't as lovestruck as he felt it was, and said, “Six o'clock,” and Isak smiled at him and left. Even tried his best not to look after him like a rom-com girl with a crush on the most unattainable boy in the school. He packed up his stuff and trailed out after the last of the students, ready to go home and take a nap before his two o'clock film lecture.

He stopped to pick up Mutta's goddamn butter from the convenience store on the way home, got some apples to diversify their diet of Hostess cupcakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and stepped onto the twelve o'clock tram, swinging the grocery bag at his side to the beat of the Khalid album playing through his headphones.

Only Adam and Elias were still home when he got there, enjoying the silence of their rooms with half of the beds empty, so Even could pretend that he was home alone, an annoyingly infrequent occurrence but with no sound it was easy to trick himself.

Originally only Even and Yousef were going to live together, in an apartment near campus with a lease they were ready to sign when Mikael asked if they had room for him, and then Adam heard they had a place and assumed they had extra space, so they had to find somewhere bigger. And the Eriksen house was close to campus and relatively inexpensive when they coerced Mutta and Elias to join the lease and then split the rent among the six of them. Every day he wished that he and Yousef—the calmest of all his friends, the least upsetting, the most chill—had signed the lease while pretending they didn't get Mikael's voicemail until after the deal was done. But they hadn't, they'd taken pity, and they'd ended up with three times as many people as they'd originally intended in only twice as many bedrooms, and three cats who never would have been let in without Mikael's fondness for them.

Costanza was the only cat they actually consciously _got_ , like went and picked out because they wanted a pet. They hadn't known that he hated every living soul, but Mikael got attached so it was too late to take him back to the shelter. Juniper was an abandoned kitten that a friend of Mutta's found, and Mutta took a picture and sent it to the group chat, and Mikael got attached again so they acquired her, too. She didn't like any of them, either, and Even wondered what was so inherently unlikeable about their entire home that made all of their cats hate every single one of them. Elaine was the only one who would allow herself to be picked up, but only for a few seconds or she started scratching the arms around her. They had no idea how they ended up with her, they just found her on their porch one day and then found her inside the house the next.

He was allowed a few minutes of silence to prepare a meal more substantial than a piece of toast and too much coffee before Elias walked downstairs with a yawn.

“Hey, how was class?” he asked, taking a bite of Even's sandwich and then going to the coffeemaker to start a new brew.

“Fine,” Even said, even though he wrote nothing down and learned nothing and didn't listen at all. He was too busy lamenting the loss of a corner of his sandwich to explain this.

“How's the cute boy?”

“He's not cute,” Even said, crossing his arms. “He's hot. He works out, and that's hot.”

“Jesus, sorry,” Elias said.

“He's so tall. I bet he has abs.” He put his head in his hands on the table and mumbled, “I want to lick them,” into his palms.

“Dude,” Elias said, pausing with the coffee grounds halfway to the maker. “Get it together.”

“I know,” Even sighed, leaning back in the kitchen chair. “I haven't gotten laid in so long.”

“Because you've been too busy chasing a boy who doesn't want you.”

“You don't know that he doesn't want me,” Even said, even though he'd pretty much come to that same conclusion and accepted it. It was worse when he heard it confirmed by someone else, though.

“Hey, why'd you ignore my text this morning?” Elias asked, starting the coffeemaker and leaning back against the counter to watch him.

Even took a bite from his sandwich. “Because I'm not gonna stalk your sister for you.”

“Then stalk Yousef for me,” Elias said. “ _Please_ , Even, I need to know what's going on with them.”

“But it's none of your business,” Even said, raising his eyebrows.

“I never said it was,” Elias said. “Maybe I'm just a nosy bitch. You don't know.”

Even picked up his plate and a water bottle. “Bye, Elias.”

“You always abandon me in my time of need,” Elias said as Even started up the stairs.

“Do I?” he asked, and turned the corner.

He didn't have to share a bedroom because he was kind of a downer when he was going through a tiny depressive state that came from a readjustment in medication or after an undetected hypomanic episode, and also he and Yousef had had to relocate and look at three different leases before settling on this one, so they got the pleasures of privacy. Elias shared with Mikael and Adam with Mutta, and Yousef got the other single room because he was a responsible adult with a high-paying job who actually deserved it.

He ate his sandwich lying down in bed and watching _Stranger Things_ while simultaneously listening to Taylor Swift. The combination was terrible but he didn't care, because the show was supposed to lift his spirits and the music was supposed to help him wallow.

Isak would never like him. He'd been abstaining from sex because no one compared and now he would probably never have sex again because Isak Valtersen wasn't someone who'd be quick to get over. So he sighed dramatically and wilted into his pillow and wanted a cigarette but Yousef's single followed rule was to never smoke tobacco in the house and for some reason they all listened to him. And then when everyone quit smoking their freshman year except for Even, it became much easier to locate the source of any broken rule. But he was wallowing too deeply to make himself go outside, because the first rule of wallowing was to stay buried in blankets.

After a few minutes someone was opening his door without knocking and entering his room.

“You should knock. What if I'd been watching porn?” Even said, voice muffled by the pillow his face was buried in.

“Taylor Swift music seems like pretty terrible porn,” Adam said. “But at least you'd be getting yourself off because no one else will. Move over.”

Even scooted to the side and set his laptop on the floor and felt the mattress dip as Adam laid down next to him.

“I'm gonna ask you to do something for me,” Adam said.

“Okay,” Even said.

“It's gonna upset you.”

“Okay.”

“Please turn off the music.”

“No.”

“Then please turn _down_ the music.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what's on your mind so that I can make you stop moping.”

“I'm not moping.” _I'm wallowing._

“What's going on?”

Even turned over onto his back and looked at Adam for the first time. “Elias said Isak doesn't want me.”

“Why would Elias be the ultimate authority on whether or not Isak wants you?” Adam asked.

“He's not but it's _true_. Isak doesn't want anything to do with me, we're hardly friends, and he's so hot.”

“I know, buddy,” Adam said, patting his chest. “You say it a lot. But you don't know that he doesn't want you. You get all weird when you talk to him, you need to just gain some confidence and ask him out. The worst that can happen is he says no.”

“When people say, 'the worst that can happen,' something worse always happens,” Even said. “Like he can laugh at me. And have all of his friends laugh at me.”

“If you're hardly friends now then you don't have much to lose from him saying no,” Adam said. “He's a nice guy, from what I know of him. Sana likes him, and we love Sana, right? It'll be fine, just ask him out.”

“I'm meeting him for coffee tomorrow,” Even said.

“Are you really?”

“No, we're studying. But I could've made an appointment with our professor instead of him, which is a step. I have to take this slow, okay, he seems... easily startled.”

“That seems like a lie,” Adam said.

“I was in a relationship for five years, Adam,” Even said. “I was fifteen, and then I completely fucking ruined it. I don't remember how this _goes_ , okay? I want him to be more than a hookup but I don't know how to flirt in a... lasting way. I don't know how to convey that I want to date him, not just fuck him.”

“You _talk_ to him,” Adam said.

“Get out if you're not gonna give me good advice.”

“You haven't gotten any better at expressing yourself instead of running away, have you?” Adam stood up, shut Even's laptop, and carried it out of his room, Spotify and Netflix both going silent. “Feel better soon, man. I'll give this back in time for your class.” He stopped before closing the door, opened it wide enough to say, “Don't give up hope, yet, man,” and closed it with a soft click.

So he wouldn't, yet. He might never, because he was dramatic and he was unrealistic and he had epic notions of reality and love and romance. He definitely wasn't one to stop pining any time soon.

  
+

Even was nervous.

He wanted this to be good. He wanted it to be productive. He wanted Isak to think he was anything but the idiot he looked like, with his empty notebook and his C-average pop quizzes. More than that, though, because his priorities were severely messed up, he wanted to have a comfortable conversation with Isak, he wanted to let him know even a little more obviously that he was attracted to him, that he wanted him. That his reputation was one thing, but his feelings for Isak were another thing completely.

Sana wasn't calming him down very well.

“It's just Isak,” she said, like that wasn't the most intimidating thing he could be. “Since we got to college I've seen him out of sweatpants maybe ten times.”

“He wears cute jeans when I see him,” Even said.

“So not the point, Even.”

“He scares me,” Even said. “With his hotness. And how smart he is, and he's so nice—”

“Isak Valtersen is not _nice_ ,” Sana said. “He tolerates people and keeps his emotions buried.”

Even didn't say, _Wow, sounds like someone I know_ , because he knew that wouldn't end well, so he went for, “He's nice to _me_.”

“Well congratulations, then. Usually you have to bully him into being nice to you, that's what I had to do. Seriously, Even, don't worry about it. It's just studying.”

“First of all,” Even said, “it's not just studying. This is me winning him over.”

“Good luck with that.”

“And second of all, even if it _was_ just studying, you telling me that wouldn't calm me down because I look like a fucking moron in this class. I haven't written more than a page of notes all semester.”

“Well, if anyone can help you, it's Isak. I'd never tell him this, but he's basically a genius. Now that he can actually apply himself instead of deal with stupid high school shit, he's unstoppable. And he's very patient, he'll be a good tutor.”

“What stupid high school shit?” Even asked, even though he _knew_ it was none of his business and he _knew_ Sana wouldn't tell him and he _knew_ what it was like to be talked about like that. “Never mind, don't tell me. That wasn't a good question. I'm just nervous.”

“You don't say,” Sana said. “Look, I gotta go. Yousef's making me dinner.”

“Ooh—”

“Shut up. I'll talk to you later.”

“Can you ask Yousef to save me some food?”

“Only because you're being brave.”

“Thank you, Sana.”

“Good luck, loverboy. See you around if you get home early enough.”

And then she hung up and Even had to think for himself again, which was something that should never be allowed, and it was 5:56 and Isak wasn't there yet.

He texted Elias, so that if Isak walked in he wouldn't look like a friendless loser. When Elias ignored him—read at 5:56, Elias was the only person he knew who had his read receipts on and it was for the sole reason of making sure people knew that he could be answering and actively wasn't—he texted Yousef. And instead of Yousef answering, Sana texted him telling him to leave them alone, so he sank down in his seat and pouted because nobody was helping him.

“Hey,” Isak said, and Even jumped, and stood—for some horrifying reason he _stood—_ and said, “Hi, Isak.”

“Hi,” Isak repeated with a smile. “Can I... sit?”

“Oh, yeah,” Even said, taking back his seat hurriedly, because why the fuck had he stood up in the first place? “Um, can I get you a coffee, or something?”

“Coffee would be great,” Isak said, smiling up at him as he leaned over from his chair to take his notebook from his backpack. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Even said, and if he'd ever wanted a cigarette before it didn't compare to how much he wanted one now. It would be something to busy his fidgeting fingers and quiet his damn untrustworthy mouth. He stood up again—he hated himself already, God, where did all his chill go when Isak was in his vicinity?—and ambled his way to the girl behind the counter.

“Can I get two coffees?” he asked, digging in his pocket for change.

“Light or dark?” she asked, bored and monotonous.

“Um... medium?” he asked.

“We don't have that,” she said.

He glanced over his shoulder at Isak opening his laptop, his back to the counter, then back to the girl.

“Do you recognize that boy?” he asked.

She looked past him, eyes half-lidded and chin in her hand. “I can only see the back of his head.”

Even bit his lip, figured he'd been gone for far too long to turn around and ask for Isak's order, and then guessed, “Dark?”

“Great,” she said, tapping on her cash register without lifting her head from her hand. “Anything else?”

“Oh,” Even said, looking at the pastry case, listening to the girl sigh audibly, which, okay, working retail wasn't the most exciting but the place was pretty much deserted, he didn't know how much of a hassle he was really causing. “That brownie? Please.”

“Sure,” she said, moving to get it. She turned to pour their coffees and Even dug the right amount of money from his jeans, then gathered up his order and doctored them with milk and sugar—only sugar for Isak, he remembered, and he poured it carefully.

“Here you go,” Even said, setting down the coffee cup and the brownie in front of Isak, next to his notebook, acting nonchalant, acting like it was just coffee. Which it was. But he was incapable of taking anything at all chill, apparently, so when Isak smiled and thanked him, Even wanted to pass out.

“I put sugar in it,” he said, taking the seat across from him. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” Isak said. “A brownie, too?”

Even tried so hard not to blush and was sure he failed completely and miserably. “To, you know, thank you for tutoring me. Do you like brownies?”

“I love anything unhealthy and chocolate,” Isak said, pinching off a corner between his fingers and eating it. Even wanted to kiss him so badly. “It's why I have to go on runs.”

Isak couldn't say things like that and expect Even to go on unaffected. Picturing him on a run was not something Even could do right now.

“Where are we gonna start?” Even asked, opening his notebook and pretending he'd be able to focus on anything other than the boy across from him. But maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he wasn't learning anything from his professor because he didn't want to fuck the guy. God, he hoped that wasn't going to be a necessary feature for the future of his education.

“I was thinking the study guide?” Isak said. “People who've taken his lecture before say that all the questions on the midterm and final are on the study guides he gives before them.”

“Great idea, then,” Even said. He didn't know they even had been offered a study guide. Thank God for Isak Valtersen, for more reasons than one.

The work was surprisingly void of difficulties. With Isak directly interacting with him, it was harder to be distracted by him. They worked through the chapters that would be on the midterm in only an hour. Having a study guide whose answers could just be memorized cut the study time down considerably. Isak mostly just asked him questions that he didn't know the answer to, and then took pity on him when he was clearly struggling. They talked them over, and Isak gave Even memorization tips, and Even concentrated hard on his flash cards and when he looked up from his work, Isak was smiling at him fondly. Even smiled back, showed him the little cartoon brain he'd scrawled on a piece of notebook paper, and Isak helped him label it.

And it didn't take long, and it wasn't boring. They managed to stay on topic without dulling each other to tears, they made jokes and Even made Isak _laugh,_ which was far more gratifying than actually knowing what a synapse was.

“The idea of the mind is just wild, isn't it?” Even asked, leaned back in his seat with his notes spread in front of him. He had actually learned things, and he was pretty happy about it.

“How so?” Isak asked, smiling as he rested his folded forearms on the table, hands gentle around the bottom of his empty coffee cup.

“Just, like, consciousness, you know? The brain is one thing but the mind is something completely different. That's... hard to wrap my head around, you know? Like how do we really know that we're even here? Because consciousness _shouldn't_ exist, it's not physical or anything tangible, so how do we know that it _does_ exist? How do we know that _we_ exist?”

Isak looked like he was thinking it over, glancing at the ceiling as he ripped his cup apart between his fingers. It was impossibly sexy, impossibly cute—endearing, how much actual thought he was putting into something Even had casually wondered.

“Have you heard that quote, 'I think, therefore I am'?” Isak finally asked, bringing his eyes back down to Even's. “It's a philosophical question more than psychological, or scientific.”

“Yeah, I remember hearing it, like, once. In history when I was fifteen.” Even twisted his own empty cup between his hands and smiled at Isak. “What about it?”

“Well. It means that the fact that we can think means that we exist. That much is obvious, you know, clear in the wording. But I think it means that there's nothing else guaranteeing our existence _except_ the fact that we can think, so really, our consciousness is the one thing _ensuring_ our existence. It may be intangible, and seem like the most volatile part of us, but it's really the single thing that's grounding us.” He was looking down at the torn paper cup on the tabletop, fiddling with the pieces idly as he thought, seemingly considering this for the very first time but talking about it like it was something he'd written a thesis on. “And when your consciousness is the only thing that tells you you're _here_ , that you _exist_ , then your consciousness is more real than your body, your mind is more real than your brain. More real than anything else, than your world or your friends. 'I think, therefore I am.' You can only be sure of your own existence, no one or nothing else's. Only yours.” He pushed some hair back from his face and was still looking dazedly at the table instead of Even, caught up in his words, caught up in his thoughts. “We exist _because_ consciousness exists. If consciousness didn't exist, we couldn't think, and we wouldn't be.” He looked up, blushed, and looked back down. “That's what I think, at least.”

“That's fascinating, though,” Even rushed to say. “That you can come up with things like that. That you can think like that.”

“I think you're probably the only person in the world who would think that, then,” Isak said, smiling at him. “But thanks.”

“So does that mean,” Even said, leaning forward, “That because you can only be sure that you exist, and nothing else, that it's true that only you exist? Anything else could be nonexistent, because your consciousness isn't in anything but yourself.”

“Or everything else has the _potential_ to exist,” Isak said. “If you can't be sure of anything but your own reality, then you can't be sure than other realities don't exist. Even realities that you can't see. Because if what you see has the potential to _not_ exist, then what you _don't_ see has the potential to exist.”

“Explain,” Even said.

“If all I know is that I exist,” Isak said, “then there's a chance that you don't exist. But there's a chance that you _do_ exist, too, or that chair over there, or my roommate's hamster. Right?”

“Right.”

“So if I don't know whether or not something that I _can_ see _does_ exist—in other words my perceived reality—then how can I say for sure if something I _can't_ see _doesn't_ exist? Everything is potentially existent, because 'I think therefore I am,' doesn't necessarily mean that everything you can't think is nonexistent. I think it more means that you can't be sure of what does or doesn't exist. The only thing you can be absolutely sure of is your own existence.”

“So, what, like... dragons exist?” Even asked.

“No, more like... realities besides your own perceived reality,” Isak said. When Even looked lost—he could feel it written across his face but he couldn't even feel ashamed by it—Isak said, “Parallel universes, for example. Alternate realities. We're here because of the choices we made; in infinite other universes we made infinitely different choices. We wind up in infinitely different realities with infinite more choices ahead of us, each one branching off into a separate reality.”

“I didn't really think you'd believe that stuff,” Even said. “It feels less scientific and more... philosophical, I guess. Because it can't be proven—you kind of seem like someone who needs things to be proven.”

“I don't know,” Isak said. “I like the idea that even if you mess up something here, in another universe it's okay.”

Even smiled at him. “I like that idea, too.”

Isak's returned smile was shy and he was looking up through his lashes and Even was about to fucking _combust_.

And then someone else ruined it.

“Hi, Isak.”

They both looked up at a boy standing next to their table, and when Even turned back to Isak he was smiling kindly and saying, “Hi, Kristian.”

“How are you doing?” the boy asked, holding a cup of coffee in his hands, steadfastly ignoring Even's presence all together and impressing all of his attention onto Isak. Beautiful, handsome Isak, apparently completely unaware of his effect on people. He didn't seem to notice the possessiveness of the guy, didn't seem to notice that his body language and face and voice all pointed towards the idea that he _wanted_ him. Even was simultaneously happy and sad, because if Isak was oblivious with everyone then it wasn't just Even and his looks and his personality that Isak didn't like, it was everyone. But it also meant someone else liked him, which, of _course_ they would, anyone who fucking _saw_ Isak would be an idiot to not like him. Even was coming to realize, though, that he stood no more of a chance than the boy in front of them did.

“I'm good,” Isak said. “This is Even.”

Kristian looked at him for the first time and extended a hand. He was overconfident and Even felt a completely irrational hatred boil up. He shook his hand anyways.

“I'm Kristian, it's nice to meet you,” the guy said.

“You, too,” Even lied, plastering on a smile.

“Are you busy right now, Isak?” Kristian asked, and that was just _rude_ because Even was sitting literally directly across from him, clearly part of Isak's business at the moment.

“Uh, yeah,” Isak said. “We're hanging out a bit. But I'll see you tomorrow. Are we still good to meet in the library?”

“Yeah,” Kristian said, smirking—honest-to-god _smirking—_ at Even as he did so. “That's fine.”

“Great,” Isak said. “I'll see you then.”

“Four o'clock,” Kristian said with a wink that seemed to confuse Isak more than anything. “I'll see you there.”

“Okay,” Isak said. When Kristian left and Even could finally turn his head away from glaring at his back, Isak was smiling at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Even said, smiling back. Isak had one of those smiles that needed to be requited, even when you weren't feeling like it. He coaxed it out, or at least he coaxed it from Even. “Was that a friend of yours?”

“Just some guy from my chem class last semester,” Isak said with an eye roll. That, coupled with the fact that Isak had said that he and Even were “hanging out,” instead of studying made Even feel a million times better. “I didn't even know him until last week, actually. I'm just gonna help him study. I doubt it'll be as fun as this has been.”

Even's smile was so wide and so genuine. Isak didn't know that he'd just made Even the happiest person in the world, just by saying that.

“This _has_ been fun,” Even said softly.

Isak looked so soft and so sweet, nothing like what everyone said he was like. They said he was prickly and grumpy, he was mean and too focused. He wasn't like that around Even.

“It has,” Isak agreed, same quietness, same gentleness.

“It's kind of sad, isn't it?” Even asked. “That there are infinite parallel universes out there, but we're in this one? Isn't there just one universe that's perfect, that goes the way you want it?”

“There is,” Isak said. “But that doesn't mean this one has to end badly.”

“I want to be in that perfect universe,” Even said.

Isak hesitated before asking, “What would go differently in that universe?”

And this was his chance. To tell Isak everything, to come clean, to say, _this is who I am and what I've done but I'd treat you well anyways._

“What would go differently in yours?” he asked instead, smiling a bit, kind of sadly.

And the last thing he expected was for Isak to _answer_. “I wouldn't have hooked up with a boy in high school who outed me to everyone I knew,” he said. “I would've done something to keep my family together. I would've stopped drinking a lot earlier.”

Isak really was as calm as he seemed. Calm and confident and okay with sharing things that should be hard for him. Even didn't know what'd happened, but he felt like something had changed.

“Why did he out you?” Even asked, throat closing.

“Because he could,” Isak answered with a wan smile. “Because I asked him not to, I don't know. And I was drunk and I told him things I shouldn't have told him about ruining my best friends' relationship, and he told everybody that, too.” He looked up, met his gaze. “That's what I would change.”

And Even didn't say _I'm sorry_ because it wouldn't be enough. “I'd break up with my girlfriend sooner,” he said. “Because I cheated on her and it wasn't right.”

“Hence the Bech Næsheim reputation,” Isak said with a small smile, and Even felt himself smiling back.

“I cheated on her a couple times,” he said. “I was confused and dumb and usually drunk. She didn't deserve that. We were having our problems but we were always together, we never broke up.”

“Are you less confused now?” Isak asked.

“Yeah,” Even said. “I think I know what I want, now.”

Isak's phone lit up with a notification and Isak leaned over to read it, then looked up apologetically. “I need to go,” he said, then rushed to add, “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Even said, because it was. He felt closer to Isak now than he'd felt to anyone in a long time.

“I'm sleeping at my friend's place tonight because Eva has her friends staying and I can't sleep when they're over. And he's gonna lock me out if I don't go now.”

“It's fine, Isak,” he said with a smile.

“Did we study enough?” Isak asked, shoving things into his backpack with so little regard to organization that Even couldn't speak for a moment. This was the same boy who had a color-coded weekly planner? Impossible. That paradox was too cute for Even to stand.

“Yeah, I think I got it,” Even said, springing into action and starting to load up his backpack, too. “I'll just review the study guide a couple more times and we'll see how it goes.”

Isak smiled, standing up and hooking his backpack over one shoulder. “I'll see you in class tomorrow, then,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks for all your help.”

“It was fun,” Isak said, and Even's heart warmed.

“It really was. Maybe we can do it some other time.”

Isak kind of looked like he understood what he was saying when he said, “I'd like that.” He left with a wave, holding his phone up to his ear. “Jonas? Don't lock the door, I'm coming.”

And Even took the long way home, walking instead of catching the tram. A lot had happened to him in the year since he and Sonja broke up for good, and he felt personally ready to start anew, for real this time. No more confused sexuality, no more refusal to control his bipolar, no more cheating on the people he loved. No more hookups that he couldn't remember, people using him for sex because they knew he'd let them. Just film school and his friends and maybe Isak if he was ever so lucky.

They boys were in the living room when he got home, sitting on the floor playing cards, three beers on the coffee table. Elaine was in Mikael's lap, halfheartedly scratching anyone who got too close, and when they heard Even lock the door, the boys asked a thousand questions about how it went.

“It was good,” Even said, smile refusing to leave his face as he sat down. He took the beer closest to him and took a sip. “Really good.”

  
+

“This is shit,” Elias said.

“Literally the worst idea,” Adam agreed.

“Please listen to what you're saying, Even,” Mutta said, all of them standing in a line in the living room, watching Even pack his backpack.

“What's so wrong with it?” Even asked, fully knowing the answer that was about to yelled at him by five different people. Because, yes, okay, he knew that interrupting Isak's study date was petty and rude and a little bit stalkery, but all of that was outweighed by just how much Even didn't like Kristian. For no reason other than the fact that he looked creepy and liked Isak.

“You can't stalk the boy you like who has just now started to realize that you like him,” Mikael said. “Stalking is a big no-no.”

“It's not stalking,” Even said, even though it one hundred percent was.

“It really is,” Mikael said.

“Well then it's stalking that I'm gonna do,” Even said, standing up and shouldering his backpack. “Anyone else want to come to the library?”

He watched them look at each other, and Yousef finally sighed and said, “Fine, I'll go. Maybe Sana will meet me.”

“You need Sana to come in order to have a good time?” Even said.

“In what world do you think it'll be entertaining for me to sit and watch you pretend to study as you spy on your boyfriend?” Yousef asked.

“He's not my boyfriend,” Even huffed, reaching out to try to pet Costanza, who hissed at him and walked away.

“And he never will be if you do this,” Adam said.

“Whatever, man,” Elias said, turning and retreating to the kitchen. “If you're gonna do this then at least bring food back.”

“Yeah, I will,” Even said. He looked at Yousef, who looked anything but excited to be doing this, and said cheerily, “Ready to go?”

“Fuck you, Even,” Yousef sighed. “Let's go. I'll drive.”

Even smiled. “Cool. Bye, boys!”

“Last chance to not to do this!” Mutta called as they walked out the door.

“I'll try to stop him when we're in the car,” Yousef said, following him onto the porch, keys in hand.

“My mind's pretty made up,” Even answered. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Can't be late stalking the boy you like,” Yousef said, closing the door behind them. “Alright, let's go.”

Even rattled the locked door handle impatiently at the passenger side of Yousef's car and Yousef sighed like a disgruntled dad. Sometimes Even had to remind himself that Yousef was the same age as the rest of them, just because he had his life so put together. A great job that he loved with all his heart, a great girl that he loved even more. A car and money and a healthy diet. The only thing he needed to grow out of now was living with five roommates. He was already looking at apartments for the next semester, closer to his work than to campus. Even always felt like a little kid when faced with the success of his best friend, which made him feel shitty because he was supposed to love and support him—which he _did_ , but it didn't stop him from also casually resenting him.

In the car, after fighting over the locks— _let go of the handle, Even, I can't unlock it if you're pulling on the handle—_ Yousef said, “How do you even know that he's into this guy?”

“I don't know that he is,” Even said. “But I know the other guy's into Isak.”

“I thought you said it went well at your tutoring session,” Yousef said, staring out the windshield.

“Yeah, it did. It went really well.”

“And how about today in class?” Yousef asked.

“It was good,” Even said. “Really fun. We talked for a while after it, until he had to go to biology.”

“So don't you think you should just let it progress as it will?” Yousef asked. “Even, buddy, you have this tendency to force things to comply to your way of thinking. You love your epic romances, you love your stories about perfect relationships that are all passion without any realism.”

And it was true. Everything got messed up with Sonja because it stopped being perfect, because he was diagnosed and had a major episode and their relationship had to change to accommodate that. He hated that it wasn't all romance and love like it had been—the real world had crept its way in and Even couldn't handle the change. Breaking up with her hadn't fared any better—he lost her as a friend and he hated himself, and he was sad and slept with people because he could, because he didn't like himself and he felt like it was what he deserved. To not love again, because he'd ruin it. Because he felt everything so deeply, so encompassing, that there was little room left for logic and reality.

“Just be normal about this, Even,” Yousef said. “Don't stalk him, and ask him out for coffee, or something. Take it chill and don't rush it. It'll be fine.”

“You're right,” Even sighed, sinking into the seat. “You are, and I hate it. I won't stalk Isak.”

“Great!” Yousef said. “That's awesome! I'm going to Sana's.”

“Can you drop me off at home, first?” Even asked.

“Take the tram,” Yousef said. “Or sit and talk to her roommates, I don't care.”

“Was this your plan all along or something?” Even asked. “Why is Sana expecting you already, we left the house two minutes ago.”

Yousef just shrugged.

“It's gonna rain,” Even tried. “I'm supposed to walk home in the rain?”

“I said take the tram,” Yousef said. “I don't know what more you want from me.” At Even's forlorn sigh, Yousef said, “Fine, then come to Sana's with me! She and her friends can help you compose an over-thought-out text to Isak. I'm sure they'll be more willing to help you than the boys are.”

“That's true,” Even said, taking out his phone and glancing at the time. 4:19. If he wasn't going to get to interrupt Isak's date in person, then he could do it through text. “Okay. I like Sana's roommate. She's spunky.”

“That's Chris. She's been a really great friend to Sana,” Yousef said. “I don't think you've met their other roommate, but she's very sweet.” He found a parking spot along the road in front of a wall of apartment complexes, and opened his door. “Coming?”

“Yes,” Even said, getting out of his own seat. They walked across the street and Even followed Yousef to one of the doors. When he buzzed up he had the dopiest smile on his face.

“Yousef?” someone said through the intercom.

“Hi, Sana,” he answered, in that voice he adopted just for her.

“Hi! Come in!” Sana was never that nice to anyone else.

“Even's with me,” Yousef said.

“Of course he is.” There was the Sana he was used to. “Hi, Even. Come up, it's open.”

“Thanks, Sana,” Even said, trying to act sweet.

“Whatever, Even,” she sighed. Which she had a right to. Even had been interrupting their dates more and more often. But he couldn't help it that Yousef was his best friend—Yousef should have known what he was getting into when he befriended Even their first year of high school, it wasn't Even's fault that Yousef assumed that their relationship would be easy. And if Sana didn't want him to call and ask for advice, then she shouldn't have made herself so accessible or close to Isak. He didn't see how any of this was his fault, as long as he didn't think too hard.

When they were upstairs the door was propped open and Yousef, used to this kind of visit, pushed it the rest of the way so that they could enter. Sana was in the kitchen with Chris, and they both turned around when they heard the two boys enter.

“Yousef's here!” Chris said. “We can finally eat!”

“What?” Yousef asked, enveloping Sana under one arm. “You invited me over to cook for you?”

Sana pouted up at him. “Sorry,” she lied.

“That's okay.”

“I can peel the carrots,” she offered, and he smiled and kissed her forehead and said, “You guys know Even?”

“Since I was twelve,” Sana said. “Hi, Even. You remember Chris?”

Chris gave him a high five and a salute.

“Even could really use your help,” Yousef said, and what a lame and obvious way to get rid of them, and Even in particular. But he did need help, because he tended to obsess a bit like he never really had before Isak. Maybe it was fear from his own past failed relationships, maybe it was just how Isak affected him. To the point where Even seriously considered and even half-executed plans to stalk him. No chill. Anyone who thought he had any was deeply mistaken.

“I need to send a text asking out a boy I like,” he said, and Sana rolled her eyes. Because she knew. She knew everything.

“Ooh, Vilde's good at that stuff,” Chris said. “Let me get her, and we'll meet you in the living room.”

Even sat down on the couch, throwing one last look over his shoulder at Sana and Yousef practically connected in the kitchen, and soon a tiny blonde girl emerged from the hallway, followed by a tall boy and Chris.

“Hi!” the girl said enthusiastically, stepping forward to shake his hand. “I'm Vilde! It's so nice to meet you!”

“Hi, Vilde,” Even said with a smile. “I'm Even.”

Vilde bit her lip excitedly. “This is Magnus!” she said, pulling the blonde boy forward by his wrist. His mouth was hanging open in something like... awe, or shock, or both at once, and he didn't say anything until Vilde said, “Babe?” while prodding him with her hip.

“Oh, hi,” Magnus said, surging forward to shake his hand. “It's just... you're Even. Bech Næsheim. And you're in my ex's apartment.”

Even looked between them with a growing smile, and Chris said, “She likes vagina. They're still friends.”

“Chris!” Vilde said with a blush, smacking her lightly on the arm.

“Oh, sorry,” Chris said, sounding completely not sorry, sitting next to Even on the couch. “It's true, though. And it's fine, Even likes both and everything and all that. Super cool.” Magnus and Vilde sat in the loveseat next to them, and Chris said, “Anyways, let's get this shit started. Who are we texting? Someone doesn't want the famous Even Bech Næsheim?”

“Isak Valtersen,” Even said, and all of them gasped, which was alarming.

“You like _Isak_?” Vilde asked.

“You _know_ Isak?” Even asked.

“Of course! Eva's one of my best friends, we're at her place all the time! And you know she's letting Isak stay there right? So I see him a lot!”

“And Isak's one of my best friends,” Magnus said. “From high school. Dude. This would wild him out.”

He had to bite his lip to keep himself from asking, _Does he talk about me?_ Instead he said, “Wow, okay. This makes this a little more awkward than it would've been.” And it already would've been plenty awkward. “But, yes, I like Isak. A lot. But I don't want to scare him away. Just want to ask him out for coffee without acting like it's for school. To hang out for real. Do you think he would?”

“Let me tell you a little something about Isak,” Magnus said, leaning forward like Even's therapist sometimes did, when he was about to get down to business. Even liked Magnus already, a lot more than he should after such a short time. “He is the absolute most focused kid I know. Totally focused on school and passing his classes and, you know, making something out of his life, or some lame shit. So he can't focus on anything else, really. Like, he's really unaware. He tends to get kind of fixated.”

“Yeah,” Even said. “I got that a bit.”

“So we're gonna have to write something pretty obvious,” Magnus said. “Is that okay with you?”

“I guess.”

“And me and the rest of our friends will help him dissect it later, make him see it. Without mentioning that I helped you write it, of course,” Magnus said.

“Mags is really good at stuff like this,” Vilde said, patting his chest fondly. “The few months we dated, I rubbed off on him. He's totally romantic now.”

“I can help other people better than I can help myself,” Magnus said. “But, still! I know Isak better than most people do, so I'm the man for the job.”

It was a debate, and it took about twenty minutes to compose the perfect text.

_Hi Isak. Do you want to hang out sometime? I was thinking coffee on Friday?_

And then they all waited on the edge of their seat for about ten seconds, before Isak wrote back, _Sounds good. I'm done with class at 3._

Even stared at the text and everyone else stared over his shoulders. “Do... do you think he gets it?”

“I'll make sure that he does,” Magnus said. “I have my way with these things, don't worry about it. Just send him a text where and when, and I'll round up the boys so we can have a conversation.”

“Okay,” Even said, nervous. “Okay, I can... do that. Text, and... wait, I guess.” He wrote, _How's 4 pm work for you?_ and instantly received, _Perfect. See you tomorrow :)_

“It's cool, Even,” Magnus said after they all stared at the response. “We're well versed in all things Isak. He needs help having a social life, you know.”

Even needed a cigarette, needed to calm his nerves. Because the idea that Isak would soon know how he felt was terrifying at the same time as it was exciting.

“I guess I'll head out, then,” Even said. “Thanks for everything. It's been really helpful, and it was nice meeting you. And of course seeing you again, Chris.”

“When you forget about Isak I'll be waiting for you,” she said with a wink, and Even smiled.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

He walked to the tram stop desperately trying to keep his cigarette lit in the rain, forsaking all dry comfort for the survival of the flame. Priorities. When he got home the boys all seemed way too happy to hear that he didn't casually stalk the boy that he liked, they passed him his one allotted beer for the day, and they sat around to watch a movie—Mutta's choice. When Yousef got home with Chinese food they sat around the coffee table instead of the kitchen table and passed Mikael's new storyboard for film class around, and talked about Yousef's kindergarten class, and brought up the upcoming midterms that no one was really stressing too hard about, and Even felt happy because he _was_ happy, and he'd once been afraid that he'd lost that happiness once and for all. So every time he remembered, every time he realized again, that this was contentedness and this was happiness, everything else fell by the wayside. Nothing was as important as this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok hi babes! this is gonna be long so strap in, the "entitled bitch" is talking :)
> 
> i'm going to start moderating comments on here, just preemptively. hopefully it won't last past this chapter, and i hope it doesn't deter you from sending them. but if i have to deal with harassment then i'd rather not subject the rest of you to it. i'll post anything except outright rude comments that don't help. constructive criticism, as always, is welcome. i really don't want to be inaccessible to ya'll, so i'll be going through the comments a few times a day and posting them. i'm really sorry, i just don't know what else to do.
> 
> i'm also going to turn on my anonymous asks on tumblr again, and see how it goes. i won't post any of the bad ones, but if you see that i've turned it off again then you can assume i've been receiving them. still, your feedback is welcome :)
> 
> i don't know if i'll continue the fic after this. i want to say that no matter what, people don't get to me, but they do. and if every time i turn on my anons i get harassed, then i can't be bothered to keep posting. i have an entire life outside of this fandom, i'm starting school in two weeks and moving into a new apartment. there's a lot going on for me and hateful comments drain all of my motivation. i can't have people's hate for something as silly as a fanfiction interfering with my schoolwork. i'm so sorry for those of you who like it. so sorry. i wish it wasn't like this and i wish it didn't affect me like it does but there's been so much stress lately that it's affecting my health and if i can remove one source of that stress, then i have to do it.
> 
> regardless of whether or not i finish the fic, it's likely that this will be my last one.
> 
> i'm going to keep ya'll as updated as i can <3 check my tumblr, i'll be making my decision within the next few days, hopefully. if you send me love, thank you. i won't post the asks because they fuel the people who hate me to send nasty ones in response, but please know that i'm getting them and loving them. any questions or comments about the fic specifically will be posted <3 just know that i'm reading everything, and i love and appreciate ya'll's support so much more than i can possibly tell you. i'd love to thank each person who came off anon just to wish me well, but there's too many to name. so thank you. and thank you to the sweet anons, too. 
> 
> finally, please remember that there's a difference between constructive criticism and outright hate. this is for every single fic writer out there, not just me. if you don't write then you don't know how much time and effort goes into just one chapter or just one fic. please just think before you post.
> 
> and i'm done! dm's on tumblr are much preferred to asks but i'll accept all of them. my tumblr is @supermansplaining for those who need it. thank you so much, love you all <3
> 
> EDIT: comment moderation turned off while on hiatus. i will be back, i promise <3


	3. Frank Ocean: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys long time no see :) sorry to keep you waiting, but thank you so much for all of your love and encouragement. i have a lot of people i want to thank, i wish i could thank everyone specifically and individually and with roses but i can't so i'll stick with joelle and cee cee and my mutuals, thank you to everyone who sent me sweet messages, everyone who commented and left kudos. thank you to the writers who are better than me and who gave me their support anyways :) this chapter took a long time because of the mean messages and because i started school again, and my schedule is a little bit packed this semester. i do want to finish this fic for ya'll, though, i really do. so here's chapter 3 (which was originally supposed to be both isak and even pov but the word count got away from me) i hope the wait was worth it even a little bit <3

**ISAK**

“Oh my God, it's just coffee,” Isak said, pulling on his jacket at the door with Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi surrounding him, caging him into the corner. It was a bit intimidating, the three of them standing over him while Isak was all hunched and vulnerable, trying to shove his foot into his shoe because he was late, like he always was when his plans didn't involve his schoolwork. “We've gotten coffee before, it's no big deal.”

“You've gotten coffee before when you're fucking _studying_ , Isak, it's not the same thing,” Mahdi said. “You fucking idiot.”

“How am I an idiot?” Isak asked, bending down to slip his shoes on.

“You're an idiot when it comes to, like, love. And relationships. And attraction in general,” Jonas said. “You're a million times worse than Magnus.”

“You are a million times worse than me,” Magnus agreed with a solemn nod.

And yeah, maybe. Because he was used to not being wanted in the same way he wanted others, and he'd stopped getting his hopes up a long time before his friends claimed that Even Bech Næsheim had a crush on him.

Because Even Bech Næsheim _didn't_ have crushes on people, not him or anyone. Even cheated on his girlfriend his first year in college with a lot of different people, and that was a reputation that lived on and got passed on. His girlfriend never left, Even broke up with her but then always came back. And if there was one thing in the world Isak hated, it was cheating, but he couldn't reconcile that person from the rumors with the person he saw before him every Tuesday and Thursday morning at ten. Even though Even had admitted it to him, face to face. Even though Even seemed guilty but owned up to it, right away.

“He's so into you,” Magnus said. “You can't even see it. But look at all the evidence—he asked you to study two weeks before finals, he smoked a joint _alone_ with you at his party, where literally everyone knew him and wanted to spend time with him. He paid for your Uber home, no one does that, Noora and Sana were gonna let you just fucking _choke_.”

“That says more about what kind of friends Noora and Sana are than how Even feels about me,” Isak said, knelt down to tie his laces. “They're shit.”

“You freeloaded off Noora for two years during high school,” Mahdi said. “I don't think she owes you anything.”

“That's true,” Isak said, standing after finishing tying his shoes. “I'm gonna go have coffee with my _friend._ ”

“See, last week you wouldn't even call him your friend,” Jonas said as Isak opened the front door. “Progress, Issy.”

“Will you guys get out of my apartment so I can leave?”

“I'm meeting Eva here after her shift is done,” Jonas said, and Isak raised his eyebrows.

“You are, are you?”

Jonas was great at pretending he didn't know what Isak was talking about when it came to Eva. “Is it cool if I just hang out?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Isak said. “Don't let the hamster out, you always do and you always lose him.”

“I won't lose him this time,” Jonas said.

“Don't take him out,” Isak said. “You won't lose him if you don't take him out.”

“He always turns up eventually.” He sat himself down on the couch like he owned the place and propped his feet up on Eva's coffee table. “Have fun on your date.”

“It's not a date.”

“Can we stay, too?” Mahdi asked.

“No, get out of my house, we're leaving.”

“I don't think it counts as your house when Eva's mom pays all the rent,” Mahdi said.

“If that's the case then it's not Eva's house, either,” Isak said, but Eva was making money and buying food herself and for Isak, paying her cell phone bill, saving up for an independent future. She had a good job and a ton of potential. She loved what she did every day, she tolerated waiting tables because soon she'd be running the place alongside her managers. Eva was some semblance of a functioning adult, someone who had her shit together despite how many nights a week she got drunk or hooked up with hot strangers. He would admire her if he wasn't so goddamn jealous.

Isak closed the door as Jonas turned on the TV, and ushered Magnus and Mahdi down the stairs.

“You two are so fucking slow.”

“Why does Jonas get to stay?”

“Because it's Eva's apartment, and if she said he can stay then I don't give a fuck. They're gonna be gross and flirty, anyways, there's no reason you should want to be near them. You weren't around when they dated in high school, it sucked.”

For a lot of reasons. The touchiness of their relationship was the least of it, the fact that there was a relationship at all was the main issue.

“I can't believe you're wearing this on a date,” Magnus said, and Isak looked down at his outfit.

“At least he's wearing jeans instead of sweatpants,” Mahdi said.

“Why is everyone criticizing my sweatpants lately?” Isak demanded.

“Because they're terrible,” Mahdi said.

“There's no room for argument,” Magnus said.

“Well it wouldn't matter if I _was_ wearing sweatpants,” Isak said, opening the door and stepping outside and feeling offended even though he didn't really have a right to. His sweatpants were a terrible fashion statement, he wasn't so inherently focused on his studies that he didn't realize how horrible they looked. They had holes in the knees and he could wear one pair for an embarrassingly long time before washing it, so he _knew_ , okay. “Because it's not a date.”

“God,” Magnus said with an eye roll, “you're so fucking focused on your grades that you can't focus on anything else! You're absolutely blind. So dense.”

“I don't have much else to focus on,” Isak said, shoving his hands in his pockets against the cold air.

“You could focus on Even,” Magnus said.

“Why are you pushing this so much?” Isak asked.

“Because maybe you'd be good together, or something,” Magnus said with a shrug that said he knew more than he was letting on. If Isak was a bad liar, which he was, he didn't know what the hell Magnus would be classified as.

“You don't even know him,” Isak said.

“I thought you said that you liked talking to him when you studied together,” Mahdi said. “What happened to that?”

“Yeah, I liked talking to him,” Isak said, and he _had_ , very much. Because Even was sweet and smart and eager to learn, he asked questions and focused so hard on making his flashcards look pretty. When Isak started rambling about consciousness and existentialism and parallel universes, Even not only listened, but wanted to hear more. It was endlessly adorable, and Even seemed so confident if Isak caught sight of him from a distance, and he had to have confidence to have sex with all the people he was rumored to have sex with, but he just... wasn't like that with Isak. At all. He stuttered and did dumb things and asked for help in psychology. He blushed and bought brownies. He was cute, not hot, and he was surprisingly honest. But then, so had Isak been. He'd spilled some of the worst moments of his past without a second thought, and he was never that unguarded with anyone. He hadn't known how it happened at the time, and he didn't know how it'd happened even now. But he didn't regret sharing it, really, because he'd learned something about Even in return, something personal that Isak had heard from others, but something that meant more when admitted face to face.

“Just look out for the signs,” Magnus said with a sigh.

“Signs of what?” Isak asked.

“Signs of him liking you.”

“I don't know what those signs look like,” Isak said.

“What the hell happened to you since high school?” Magnus asked. “You used to be able to tell when guys wanted to fuck you. You used to be charming enough to have them buy you _drinks_ , and, like, take you back to their place.”

“I'm not a stupid kid anymore,” Isak said. “I want more than that, if I have to have something. But I don't _want_ anything right now, I'm not looking. I'm not gonna make something out of nothing when I'm fine on my own.”

“So, what, you never want a relationship because you're fine on your own?” Mahdi asked.

“Of course I'd like to have a relationship at _some_ point,” Isak said. “If I can find someone naturally without people _forcing_ it on me like you two seem to be doing. What are you two even doing here? Your dorm's the other way.”

“I'm going to Vilde's,” Magnus said.

“And I was following Magnus,” Mahdi said. “Is Vilde okay?”

She absolutely was not, which was why Isak was spending such little time in Eva's apartment as the weeks progressed. He'd been at Jonas's parents' house more often than his own bedroom, but Vilde needed Eva more than Isak did right now. Isak had been there, right in her position.

“Just some stuff with her mom,” Magnus said with a sigh, and that always hit close to home with Isak. “She's in that rehab center, you know? Vilde had to move the last of her stuff out of her dad's apartment after class today, she's a little upset over it. But he has a new girlfriend moving in and doesn't have the space for her and her mom's stuff anymore, I guess.”

“That sucks,” Mahdi said, and Isak swallowed and looked far ahead. Vilde had been evicted their senior year of high school, Isak remembered how awful it'd been even though he barely knew her. She'd had to move all of her stuff into her absent father's utility closet and the entire ordeal was achingly familiar to Isak's experiences the year before. He still had belongings in his dad's new home, things that he didn't have the courage to retrieve.

“Yeah,” Magnus said. “But, dude, go home. Why are you coming this way?”

“I don't know. I'll see you two later!”

“Bye, Mahdi,” Isak said.

“Get some dick, Isak!” he called over his shoulder.

“That's inappropriate,” Isak muttered, looking at the sidewalk and shaking his head.

“You used to be king of inappropriate content,” Magnus said. “What happened to you, you neutered bastard?”

“You're so mean today,” Isak said.

“Just... do me a favor and keep an open mind. If you really think Even doesn't like you, then you'll never see it. So just be open to the possibility, okay?”

“Why do you _care_ so much?”

“I just want you to be happy, Jesus, I'm trying to be a good friend you asshole!”

“Why are you calling me so many names!”

“Just be happy, Isak!”

“You can't force me to be happy by yelling at me!”

“You used to get laid.”

“Yeah, because I was sad and closeted and didn't know what else to do.”

“But then you even found boys after you came out, with, like, no problem at all,” Magnus said. “What makes you so attractive to people?”

“I really don't like this conversation.”

His high school years were some of the worst of his life. His mom couldn't get out of the bed for days at a time, she'd been hospitalized for dehydration twice and she'd had her stomach pumped of its contents once. She tried to kill herself three times in four years and for one of those years he was alone in living with it. In helping her, or trying to. In giving up because she wouldn't help herself.

And he hooked up with girls and tried to feel something. He hooked up with boys, too, because he never would. When it was late and dark and the real world didn't matter. But then it did. He wasn't careful enough and everything mattered, to everyone. And he was so angry for so long. He was so hurt. He still was, years later, because he had the right to be. Because everything carefully constructed to preserve just a bit of peace in his life was betrayed by someone who had drunken information that Isak never should have shared.

So now he was just careful. He wasn't stupid. He was just careful. Kept his expectations low, tried to keep his trust intact. He _wanted_ to be happy, he wanted to be open. He wanted to find someone nice someday, yeah, but right now wasn't the right time and he wasn't going to push it. He'd be fine. He was fine, now.

“Have you seen Even's ex-girlfriend?” Magnus asked, and Isak shook his head. She didn't go to school with them, but he knew that she was a part-time model and a part-time restaurant manager. Eva had been the one to tell him, when she mistook Isak's phone for hers and opened a message from Even. “You know his ex is a literal _model_ , right?” she'd asked as he grabbed the phone from her hand. “She's so fucking hot, I'd grab her boobs any day.”

“She's in one of Vilde's magazines,” Magnus said, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk. “If you go over there you should look. I mean, Even is attractive, and all, but still not attractive enough to deserve someone who looks the way his ex does.”

Isak actually found himself laughing at that. “Maybe you think that because you don't like boys?”

“Maybe. But I think even your gay ass can appreciate the way his ex looks, holy shit.”

“Maybe,” Isak said with a shrug. It seemed highly unlikely he'd find anyone hotter than Even, of course. No one in high school could compare to how attractive he found Even now, it was weird. He'd had his fair share of one-night stands and casual hookups when he was struggling with his identity at seventeen years old, but he never thought any of them were as hot as Even was now. He supposed that was part of the charm, really, the Even Bech Næsheim reputation was built on his face and body more than his personality. But Isak quite liked his personality, too. Not the personality people claimed he had, but the personality Even showed Isak. The shy, stuttering personality, the mess of a human being, the cute Even instead of the sexy one.

“Okay,” Magnus said, clapping him on the back when he came to the road's turnoff to get to Vilde's. “Have fun, suck a dick if you can.”

“Just any dick I happen to find?”

“Any dick is better than no dick at all,” Magnus said. “But Even's, if you get the chance.”

“You're too invested in this,” Isak said. “I don't like how invested you are in this.”

“I just think you two would be cute together.”

“I'd be cute with anyone. Have fun at Vilde's, tell Sana hi from me. Chris, too, don't let her objectify me behind my back.”

“She objectifies everyone, don't act special. Talk to you in a bit, text me if you have questions about Even.”

“Bye, Mags.”

The rest of the walk to the coffeeshop took about ten minutes and was done in blissful silence, which had become increasingly rare as he got older. When his mother started showing symptoms, it was louder in the house all the time, louder in his life. When his dad left it got louder still, or the noise fell more heavily on his shoulders as the responsibility did. But the kollektiv wasn't quieter, not when it was just Eskild and Linn and not when Noora came back from London. Eskild contributed to most of that noise, but Noora's late night phone calls weren't helpful, nor Linn's loud movies so she wouldn't have to hear the rest of them. And moving into Eva's should have made his life quieter, but he found himself dealing with all five of the girls most of the time, or Eva's drunken midnight returns, or the goddamn squealing of the hamster on his wheel. Which was tolerable, of course, because without Eva's hospitality he would have nowhere to go, nowhere to live.

It was because of Eva's hospitality, though, that Vilde was crammed into a shared bedroom with Chris, who set up a second twin bed in the opposite corner and pinned photographs of the five girls to the wall; Sana, Noora, Eva, Chris, and Vilde, all smiling, all holding each other tight, all together in each blurry iPhone photo in a hundred different locations around Europe. Chris acted tough, acted funny, acted like the most she had to offer was a broad smile and a dick joke. But when Isak had failed to vacate Eva's second bedroom before the start of the second semester, it was Chris who hastened to take Vilde in like she had in high school, harboring Vilde in her bed on the nights she couldn't bear to be at her father's house. Just like it was Chris who had always taken care of her, Chris who had kept it a secret between the two of them for the longest time before Isak overheard a conversation in Eva's living room, first semester when Vilde was looking for a new place to live.

He had told himself he'd find a new place over winter break—if not because it'd be more fair to Eva, then because it'd be what Vilde deserved; she'd taken care of her ill mother for her entire life, she hadn't run away like Isak had, she had a job and could pay her share of the rent like Isak couldn't. She wouldn't just be squatting for an indefinite amount of time, _just until I can find something cheaper._ It's what he'd said when he moved out of Eskild and Linn's instead of Noora. Just for a little while, and then Noora could have it. Just until he got back on his feet and got used to school, and then Vilde could have it. But Christmastime was a slew of shitty memories and all he could do was head back to the kollektiv for the weeks off of school and sleep in Eskild's bed so he'd have that comfort the same as he'd had in high school, the place he always went when things seemed particularly overwhelming, especially triggering.

Even would have to be fucking insane to like someone like him when he could have anyone else. Yet another reason for the doubt.

He showed up late to the coffeehouse because that was just his nature. Only a few minutes late, an avoidable kind of late, the kind of late that Isak most often was. And Even was already sitting at a table, the same table they'd sat in last week when they were studying, with two cups in front of him. Isak smiled.

“Hi,” he said, taking the seat across from Even hastily, a bit out of breath from jogging to try to make up the minutes that ran over. “Sorry I'm late.”

Even's smile was bright. Blinding. It always was, and Isak was lucky he wasn't going to let himself get dragged in because that smile would destroy him if he did. And that smile was more than enough to drag him in.

“It's okay,” Even said. “I'm glad you bothered to come at all.”

“And turn down coffee with Even Bech Næsheim?” Isak asked. “I'd have to be crazy.”

“You're funny,” Even said with an eye roll.

“I am.” He pulled the coffee cup nearest him to his lips and took a sip. Dark roast with sugar. Perfect. “Thank you,” he said, holding the cup between both hands. Even looked down from his face to the cup and smiled again. Isak narrowed his eyes and tried to look for what Magnus was talking about.

But Even had never looked at him differently. Not differently from that first day they saw each other, nothing had changed, Even still looked at him in the exact same ways. It wasn't the way men in bars had looked at him, it wasn't the way hookups looked at him. This wasn't lust, it wasn't desire, it wasn't anything. Even looked at him the same way he always had.

And Isak was looking back in a really weird way right now, he realized. So he leaned back and stopped squinting at him and tried to act normal. He crossed his legs then uncrossed them, and was hit with the horrible realization that he didn't remember what “normal” was anymore.

“How's your week been?” Even asked.

“Well I saw you in class yesterday,” Isak said. “But I guess it's been fine since then.”

“Right,” Even said, cheeks getting a little pink. “It was just yesterday. Feels a bit longer.”

Isak smiled. He wondered why people couldn't see Even for this version of himself, the truest version, the most unguarded. That's the only version Isak had seen.

“Any big plans for the weekend?” Even asked.

Isak took a sip of coffee and shook his head. “Just some studying, I guess. Maybe smoke some weed with my friends, I don't know. Nothing solid. What about you?”

“Oh,” Even said, like he was surprised that Isak would ask. Like he was caught off guard. “Um, there's a party tomorrow night that I might go to. With my friends, you know. My roommates.”

“All five of them,” Isak said.

“All five of them,” Even confirmed with a smile. “How's your roommate doing?”

“She's good,” Isak said. “I've been spending less and less time there, though. Been staying with friends most nights.”

“Why's that?” Even asked.

“One of her friends is having a lot of problems at home, you know. So she's been taking my bedroom instead of sharing with her roommate, so that she can have some privacy to get through it.” He felt heat radiating through the paper of the coffee cup into the palms of his hands. “The room was supposed to be hers at the beginning of this semester, anyways, but I didn't find a new apartment in time.”

“That's nice of you,” Even said. “Giving up your room for her. That's really nice.”

“It's not really my room,” Isak said, because it wasn't, now more than ever. “Eva pays for everything. I don't make enough money, or have any... parental help, or anything. So I need to find a cheap place and a job by the middle of the summer.” When he realized just how much he'd overshared, he blushed. Why couldn't he shut his damn mouth around Even? He usually had a better filter than this, because he knew that after he came out he could never lie convincingly again. He'd spent too long lying, he'd exceeded his allotted lies for his entire life, probably.

“That's too bad,” Even said. “I know how stressful it can be. We looked at a hundred different places and had to look at three different leases before we finally got to sign one, it fucking sucked. And then we got there and the Eriksens wanted to charge us more than the lease we'd signed for, and whoever lived there before we moved in stole the internet router and the Eriksens wouldn't replace it for weeks.”

Isak smiled around a sip of his coffee. “Renters are crooks. I might just move back into my high school apartment to avoid it, at least I know that landlady isn't scarier than my roommates are.”

“You were in an apartment in high school?” Even asked, taking a sip of coffee, not sounding concerned like a lot of people did when they found out that information, or overly curious to a prodding extent. Just... carrying on the conversation, asking questions, building a discussion.

“Yeah, I moved out of my mom's house when I was seventeen,” Isak said. “In the middle of my second year.”

“Oh,” Even said. And he didn't want to pry, that much was obvious, but he also clearly wanted to know what the hell had happened and Isak smiled, figured that if Even got the courage to ask one more question about it, then Isak would be happy to share the information. And Even didn't disappoint, although he said everything nervously when he finally managed to ask, “Did that have something to do with... what you said when we were studying? About being... um, outed?”

“A little bit,” Isak said, because he felt safe around Even, he felt like things didn't matter when they fell from his lips, as long as Even was on the receiving end. They were heavy things, if he let them bear the weight. With some people, they were weightless. With Sana, with Jonas, with Eskild, with Eva. With everyone else these things were hard to say. But not with them, and not with Even. “This guy that I slept with at a party told everyone everything I said to him when I was drunk. Including that I was gay, and that I broke up my best friends the year before, and stuff. And then everything just kind of went to shit, like... everyone knew everything which wasn't great, as I'm sure you know.” Because what happened between Even and his girlfriend shouldn't have been anyone's business but theirs, but that's not how society works, there's no privacy settings. Even smiled at him. Even understood. “And so I tried to make it better with alcohol, which is why I don't drink anymore. And a guy found me and I was obviously underage and really drunk and about to go home with someone and Eskild took me home instead and let me stay on their couch, and I just... never left. It was better than being at home.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” Even said, stirring his coffee with a wooden stick and looking down at it. “Did you two... date, or...?”

“No,” Isak said with a smile, and Even lifted his eyes to Isak's. “No, I'd never date Eskild, he's like a dad and a brother and, like, that gay uncle that everyone always tells you about but that you've never met yourself.” Even laughed and Isak liked his laugh, and found himself thinking, again, which he hated. Because thinking always turned into overthinking when Isak was involved. He was trying to look for signs, for whatever Magnus said he needed to be looking for. He didn't know when the fuck Magnus had become the ultimate relationship advisor, and he wasn't sure he liked it, and he also wasn't sure if his advice held any merit, yet. Sure, Vilde's guidance in their brief stint as boyfriend and girlfriend had sensitized him a bit, but his maturity was decidedly juvenile like it'd always been.

“Oh, good,” Even said. “I'm glad you have a dad and brother and gay uncle, all rolled into one. That's better than a boyfriend.”

Isak smiled. “Yeah. I've walked in on him getting a blowjob before. I've walked in on all of my roommates during all sorts sexual acts.”

“I'd like to hear about that,” Even said, leaning his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, an easy smile on his lips, amusement evident in his expression.

Isak smiled. “You've never experienced that before?”

“No, I stay out of my roommates' ways. And mostly people masturbate when the house is mostly empty, or when the bathroom door is locked.” He blushed at that, at his own words, and Isak's smile widened. “Not that... that happens a lot. I mean... obviously sometimes, you know? You have to... sometimes. Not... _you_ specifically. Just people. In general.”

It was cute. God, Isak could really give into that, he could really fall for it. He just needed a hint from Even to show he was interested, and he'd been all over him.

“People in general,” Isak said. “That's true. People in general need to masturbate, sometimes. That's okay.”

“Please don't remind me that I just rambled about masturbation,” Even said, hiding his face in his hands. “Talk about walking in on your roommates, you must have shitty luck for that to have happened more than once.”

“I guess I have shitty luck for a lot of reasons,” Isak said. “I walked in on Eskild twice. The first time wasn't long after I moved in. So that was fun. And then I walked in on Linn having phone sex in the living room when I got home from school. Noora was back with this... kind of shitty guy when we were in third year and I walked in on them having sex. And I caught my two best friends having sex when I was sixteen and crashed their cabin, and ended up living with both of them at different times.”

“Eva?” Even asked.

“Eva and my best friend Jonas, yeah. And I've seen Eva with two people since I started staying with her.”

“You've lived with a lot of people,” Even said.

“You have five roommates.”

“That's true,” Even answered, smiling. “I guess I can't talk.”

“Five roommates and three cats,” Isak said. “And you call yourself an adult.”

“Hey, I pay my rent,” Even said. He smiled. “Can't say the same for you, can we?”

Isak laughed. “No. We can't, I guess.”

“I can't believe you've seen all of your roommates having sex,” Even said. “Do you have bad luck or do you just put yourself in these situations?”

“You can't really be blaming me for that?” Isak cried with a laugh. “You think I _wanted_ to see my roommates naked? Maybe... maybe Jonas, but I was sixteen and in the closet.”

Even smiled. “Did you two date?”

“No,” Isak said, laughing. “No, hell no. I just had a bit of a... misplaced crush on him. I've never dated anyone, actually.” He didn't know why that admission made him look down at his coffee cup, peeling the cardboard sleeve from the paper mug. It wasn't that embarrassing, really, because he had his reasons and he knew his limits, knew what he wanted and what he could handle. But he felt just a little pang of embarrassment, nothing more. No shame, no humiliation. It was just that Even had been with his girlfriend for years before everything happened between them, and Isak felt like someone with a relationship record that started as a teenager and lasted into adulthood wouldn't understand why Isak wouldn't want to date someone. Or maybe he'd think that Isak was some virginal loser who was just unwanted by people so thoroughly that he could never snag a boyfriend, or even a one-night stand. He didn't want Even thinking that, but he also wasn't sure if he wanted Even to know that he'd slept with countless people in the same three-year period of high school, because that wasn't a good look to judgmental strangers, either.

Not that Even was judgmental. Not that Even wouldn't understand that more than anyone else.

“No one?” Even asked, eyes wide.

Isak shook his head, found himself blushing a little. He didn't blush around anyone but Even, the pink tint only showed up when his friends were teasing him about his love life, his least favorite topic to dwell on. “No one. I mean, a girl when I was sixteen, the last half of my first year. For like two weeks, it was nothing. Mostly me trying to trick myself into thinking that I liked tits.”

Even laughed. “You didn't?”

“Not at all.” He smiled and took a sip of his cooling coffee. “What about you? Anything since that girlfriend you had for a million years?”

He was a little jealous. Just a little bit. What would have happened if Isak met Even when he was fifteen instead of his would-be girlfriend? Instead of meeting him now when he was interested only in fucking the entire school one night at a time?

That was an unfair evaluation, and he knew it as soon as he thought it. Something bad had happened between Even and his girlfriend and that's what lead to Even's sexualized love life now. He knew that. It was the same thing that happened to him, and everyone assumed that they knew why, and nobody did. It was because he was tired of pretending but afraid to stop. It was because his home life was falling apart in giant shreds and he didn't know how else to cope. It was because he _liked_ it, and people thought that was bad, but it wasn't.

So he couldn't judge Even for breaking from a belief in relationships. Just like he had no rational right to be jealous of something in the past that ended heartbreakingly for the girl. For Even too, probably. He had no right to be jealous because, sure, he'd sleep with Even if Even was interested, he'd go on dates with Even if Even promised not to hurt him, but Even wasn't interested and Even hadn't promised anything. If Isak wasn't willing to make the first move, he couldn't rightly expect Even to do it.

“No, not after Sonja,” Even said. “I was really going through a tough time after we broke up. I just wanted to... forget about her, about what I did to her. And to know that people still... you know, wanted me, in that way? It helped a little bit. Made me feel like less of an asshole for a few hours. But then it always just turned out to be another one-night stand and I felt like shit again because that's really not the kind of person I am.” They tended to get deep like this when they talked for long, after the conversation got flowing, once they were comfortable in themselves and in each other. “I love relationships,” Even continued. “I loved dating Sonja, I loved having someone in that way. And I wanted it after we broke up but I just really felt like I didn't deserve it.”

Isak bit his lip a bit, because there was something in the way Even was speaking, something in the way he was looking at him. Eye contact with Even had always felt strong, and now it was trying to tell a story. Something he just didn't fucking understand. He wished he could stop being so goddamn logical and focus on the way it _felt_ , wished he could stop forcing control over every situation and just go with it, just let things _happen_.

“And now?” Isak asked, quietly.

Even cocked his head and looked to the ceiling briefly, like he was looking for strength, like he was thinking hard and gathering courage. He looked back at Isak and smiled. “Now I'm ready again.”

Isak smiled back because he couldn't not. He smiled back because Even was _looking_ at him and it didn't make sense but for the first time in a long time he felt like maybe that was okay. A lot of the best things in his life hadn't made sense. Eskild taking him into his full apartment and letting him stay, Eva forgiving him for his past mistakes without question and giving him a place to live for a while. Logically it didn't make sense. Eskild's apartment was filled to the brim and that should have deterred him but it didn't. Eva had lost her relationship because of Isak's misplaced envy, but she still loved him anyways, gave him shelter when he first left his mom's place with nowhere else to go, gave him shelter now, again, with a year between them, because she could but she didn't have to.

They talked for a long time. A really long time. They talked until the girl behind the counter started pointedly wiping down tables in an attempt to get them to leave, they talked on their way to the tram stop, they talked on the tram, and Isak didn't notice it was happening, didn't recall in the moment that Even's house was in the opposite direction, he was just enjoying this. This talk about weed and music and movies, talk about politics and Youtube and Donald Trump. It was so right. It was natural.

And when they stopped in front of Eva's building, Isak thought that maybe he understood a bit more what Magnus had been talking about.

“You're sure this is your apartment tonight?” Even asked, hands in his jeans' pockets, looking up at the building.

Isak smiled. “Yeah, got the all-clear from Eva. But Jonas's isn't far, I could get there if I had to.”

“Okay,” Even said, running fingers through his hair and letting a strand fall across his forehead. Isak liked it, his lips curved up like the curl did. “Okay, well... I'm glad you came to coffee with me.”

“I'm glad you invited me to coffee with you,” Isak said.

“Oh,” Even said, sounding surprised. He was always sounding like that around Isak. Isak liked it but he didn't know why. Maybe because Even looked so perfect to everyone else, Isak liked every reminder that he wasn't. That he was letting his guard down, that he was a real person not a faultless god. “Yeah, me too.”

“I guess I'll see you in class Tuesday,” Isak said. He didn't want to leave, he wished they'd walked instead of taken the tram, but he knew that Even had a trek to go to get back home so he didn't want to extend that now that he'd realized. It was already really late for a coffeeshop date, and, granted, it was Friday night, but Isak didn't feel confident in his ability to keep the night going now that he was overly aware of the fact that they'd been together for nearly five hours. He'd like to do something cool and charming like invite Even up to smoke a joint but Eva and Jonas would be getting back to hers soon and Eva didn't like it when he smoked weed in her flat. And since he wasn't paying he felt the need to respect that rule.

“I guess,” Even said with a smile.

“Thanks for bringing me home.”

“Couldn't risk letting someone grab you.”

Isak laughed. “Who would grab me?”

“I don't know, pretty people get grabbed all the time. Tram stops are sketchy. Will you come to the party on Saturday with me?”

That was a lot of new information at once and Isak didn't know what to focus on first. Which was more important didn't matter, it was which was more relevant to the here and now. The one that required an answer.

“Um, yeah,” Isak said, coming to his senses, finally able to push the thought of _Even thinks I'm pretty_ from his mind for long enough to register that he was just asked something that needed an answer. Something that he normally would want to refuse because he hated parties now, especially the college types with no quiet space to just sit and talk when you didn't want to get shitfaced like he didn't. But it was _Even_ and it mattered right now. It mattered right now that he said yes because it felt like things were changing.

Even looked relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Even, of course,” he said.

“Great,” Even said. “I'll... text you, I guess? Maybe I can come around and pick you up and we can walk there together?”

Isak just smiled. “That sounds good.”

“Okay,” Even said, looking incredibly surprised at the way things had gone, like he hadn't quite meant to blurt out the question but was happy in its result anyways. “Um, awesome. I'll text you.”

“Perfect,” Isak said with a smile, and then Even was giving him one last smile and walking away and Isak wanted to be dramatic and run up the stairs and press his back against the door and swoon or whatever but he didn't, he just smiled and let himself in and went up the stairs calmly. He opened the door and got a baby carrot from the fridge for Amadeus, an animal that he still maintained that he hated, but he was in a good mood tonight. He watched the hamster chew on it for a bit, holding it in both creepy little hands, and then saw him gradually fall asleep with it still in his mouth because he was stupid and constantly sleeping because running on his terrible wheel was apparently exhausting.

And he went to his room that had a lot of Vilde's things in it—they were not-so-subtly pushing him out but he didn't blame them at all, he knew Eva would let him stay indefinitely just because she was a good, guilty person who felt bad for him and his shitty life, and he didn't want that to be the reason he stayed, he already didn't like that he was the reason Vilde had to share a bedroom with Chris instead of having her own space to get used to this magnificent change in her life. Her mother was institutionalized and she felt ashamed to cry in her own bedroom and Isak felt bad about it because this bedroom should be hers, not his.

That wasn't enough to completely wipe away his good mood though, he got it back, especially when he texted Vilde asking if she wanted to stay the night because he didn't mind at all and she seemed genuine in her answer instead of trying to appease him or not look like a bother. He'd find a new place soon. As soon as the semester ended. Maybe he'd room with Chris instead. God, that'd be awful. If Jonas wasn't still living at his parents' place Isak could maybe find a more permanent home with him. Magnus and Mahdi had a two bedroom and Isak wasn't eager to share with either of them. And with Noora still living at the kollektiv he couldn't really go back home to Eskild. And he didn't really want to, because as much as he appreciated the kollektiv and all of his roommates—even Linn who pretended to hate him—he didn't want to go back there, back where everything bad happened. Back where he made bad decisions and abandoned his mother.

But whatever, he'd figure something out. He didn't want to think about it now because it stressed him out, and Even had just made him feel good. Feel nice and hopeful. He was so stressed out in his daily life, but being with Even had swept that away. And it was nice.

So he sat on his bed and waited for Even to text him because he knew Even would. And Even did, after Isak changed out of jeans and back into sweatpants and was lying in bed playing a game on his phone. Eva got home and Jonas trailed after her and when they disappeared into her bedroom and closed the door, creeping by Isak's open one on their way. Isak didn't even care. He was too invested in his conversation with Even, and when Jonas and Eva got loud Isak just closed his door and plugged his headphones in instead of complaining about it and pouting.

Okay. Magnus was maybe right. A little bit, because now that he'd opened his eyes to the possibility, it didn't seem so impossible.

  
+

“Isak just said I was right,” Magnus said, swinging the door to his apartment open and holding his arms out in triumph. “Isak Valtersen just admitted defeat, just said that I, Magnus Fossbakken, am right.”

Isak followed him through the door, closing it behind him. “I said you might have been a little right,” Isak said. “I'm going off one night of evidence, okay, I need more than that to know whether or not you were _really_ right.”

“And you'll get it,” Magnus said, kicking off his shoes so that they hit the wall with incredible force and volume and then plopping down on the couch next to Jonas. “Tonight at that party.”

Jonas looked up from his phone at that, zeroing in on Isak taking off his shoes near the door. “Dude, what the fuck? You refused to come to that party, I _begged_.”

Isak didn't get the chance to answer because Magnus was saying, “That was until _Even_ asked him.”

“Ooh, Even?” Mahdi asked, cross-legged on the floor playing FIFA. Isak sat down next to him and picked up the second controller, and Mahdi exited out of the game to start a new one. “How'd that go, you didn't answer the group chat.”

“I didn't feel like dealing with you three,” Isak said, staring at the TV screen. Magnus and Mahdi's dorm was a mess of clothes everywhere and schoolbooks strewn across the ground instead of in the backpacks where they belonged. There was a rat in a huge cage in one corner that Mahdi hated but allowed because she was Magnus's, and Magnus loved her. Her name was Claire and he'd had her since freshman year and Isak liked her one million times better than he liked Amadeus. Amadeus didn't do anything ever except bite his fingers and bury food under soiled newspaper.

“So, what the fuck?” Jonas asked from somewhere behind him. “You're going to the party tonight? When did that happen? Why wasn't I... informed?”

“Because I'm not going with you assholes, I'm going with Even.” But that was a mistake. He shouldn't have said that and he knew it as soon as it passed his lips. He closed his eyes and Mahdi scored on him before pausing the game and rounding on him with Jonas. Magnus was just sitting back, satisfied and smirking. It was a rare day when he was right and even rarer when people believed him.

“You're going with _Even_?” Mahdi asked. “Magnus was _right_?”

“That's what I fucking said, you bitches,” Magnus huffed from the couch.

“You're really going with him?” Jonas asked. “I thought he was kidding.”

“Why doesn't anyone ever believe me?” Magnus asked. Claire shuffled around in her cage, and when Isak glanced at her—because it was easier than watching his friends watch him—she was clinging to the bars halfway up, climbing higher.

“Wait, so, Isak,” Jonas said, grabbing him by the face with both hands and turning his head towards him. “You're going to a party with Even Bech Næsheim? You're gonna _fuck_ Even Bech Næsheim?”

“Will you fuck off,” Isak said, pushing Jonas's hands away from him. Jonas was quick to lose his chill when it came to Isak, with everyone else he was so stoic and emotionless and people looked at him and thought, _Wow, that's a really chill guy_. They couldn't know that he'd woken up at five in the morning to sneak out of Eva's bedroom and apartment in hopes that Isak wouldn't find out. He was overprotective in irrational ways, especially after high school and everything bad that happened to Isak then. He didn't want to worry him over unsure things, such as his tenuous non-relationship with his ex-girlfriend and Isak's current roommate, and he wanted to protect him from anything that might be dangerous—i.e. Even Bech Næsheim.

He didn't know that Isak had been up and about to leave for a run when the apartment floorboards shrieked under Jonas's heavy footfalls. He didn't know that Isak saw a different side of Even.

“Is this a good idea?” Jonas asked when Isak didn't answer.

“No one said I'm gonna fuck him,” Isak said, rolling his eyes. “He's nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“And he's into you,” Magnus said.

“And he _might_ be into me,” Isak amended. “Might.”

“You're so fucking dense,” Magnus said.

“He asked you to coffee and to a party?” Mahdi said, shaking his head solemnly. He looked straight at Isak and winked with a smile. “He wants to fuck you, bro, no question.”

“You say that about everyone you see interacting with me.”

“Well not only does Even want to fuck you,” Magnus said, “he _likes_ you, too.”

“Can I let Claire out?” Isak asked, standing from his cross-legged position on the floor and stepping towards the cage. He glanced at Magnus over his shoulder and felt Claire bump her nose against his fingertip and then lick him there with her little tongue. He turned back to her and smiled, sticking his finger through the bars and scratching her between her ears with the edge of his close-shorn nail. Claire closed her eyes halfway and opened her mouth, and let Isak pick her up without protest when he opened the little rat-sized door to her cage.

“Why are you so afraid of _love_ , Isak?” Magnus asked.

“I'm not afraid of love,” Isak said, sitting down and setting Claire in his lap. “And Even does not _love_ me, what the fuck. We've been on one date and it might not have even been a date.”

“I think it was,” Jonas said.

“Yeah, it definitely was, man,” Mahdi said.

“Then it was just one date, it doesn't mean anything,” Isak said. “One date is nothing.”

“One date is what leads to more dates,” Jonas said. “And then to living together and engagement and marriage.”

“I would really rather not think about that after one date,” Isak said.

“Just don't fuck him right away,” Magnus said. “You always get sad after you fuck people.”

“I do not get sad after I fuck people,” Isak said, covering Claire's ears with his hands cupped around her head. He brushed his finger over her head and she closed her eyes.

“You do,” Mahdi said.

“You always have,” Jonas said.

“You can't tell me who to fuck and when not to fuck them,” Isak said.

Jonas sighed and said, “You have trust issues, Isak. It's not your fault, it's your dad's. But it makes you sad after sex, because you always leave.”

He looked at them, saw the expressions on their faces, the unasked questioned begged not because it affected them at all but because seeing Isak sad made them all sad. _Why do you always leave?_

Isak didn't know the answer, he'd never known the answer. He left so that he couldn't be left, and it was easy.

“I wouldn't leave,” Isak said quietly, looking down at the rat. “He's nice. I wouldn't leave if it was him.”

He wondered how different his life would be, if he'd found Even earlier. How different everything would be.

Mahdi started a new game of FIFA, and Isak moved onto the couch next to Magnus as Jonas took a seat on the floor. They knew him better than anyone, they wanted the best for him, they were his family because he didn't have his anymore, he hadn't had his for a long time. He had this instead, and this was better. This, with Magnus and Jonas and Mahdi. This with Eva and Eskild and Linn. He had everything in a warped and different way, a pleasant way, a good way. A better way, it was better than it'd been.

“You fucking suck at this,” he heard Mahdi say, and he smiled at Jonas's offended gasp. Magnus was texting Vilde with his phone in his lap and Isak was happy and he felt lucky. He'd never felt much luck.

Things were okay, and things were good. Things were always getting better.

When he got home, Eva was burning something on the stove and fanning smoke out their window with a magazine, and she gave Isak a smile and a, “How are the boys?” as he walked towards the room.

Isak didn't ask about the smoke, he didn't have to. Eva couldn't cook but it didn't stop her from trying. It was always, “I had the best dish at work today, Isak, it doesn't look too difficult,” and it was always too difficult. Isak had stopped forming an opinion.

“They're good. _Jonas_ is good.” He'd have to be, after last night. The high-pitched noises Eva had been making for about two hours were indication of how _good_ they must be afterwards. But that wasn't something they were talking about, that wasn't something they were acknowledging as happening right now.

Eva didn't say anything else, he imagined she was rolling her eyes, so he opened his door and saw Vilde asleep in his bed. He retreated back to the kitchen and raised his eyebrows until Eva said, “Oh, yeah, Vilde's here.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“She's not staying tonight, don't worry. We'll be at Sana and Chris's.”

“Great.” He went over to the hamster's cage, knew that if he opened the door and took him out, the rodent would wriggle around until he fell to the floor and then wedge himself under the radiator. He wasn't like Claire, wouldn't let himself be held or contained. “Hi, dummy.”

“Don't call Amadeus dumb, _Isak_ , he can hear you.”

“He can't understand me.”

“He can intercept your negative vibes. Animals are really in touch like that.”

“They're in touch with _vibes_?”

“I don't like you, get out of here.”

“Vilde's in my room, where am I supposed to go?”

“Sana and Chris and Noora will be here soon, I'll wake her up. Just sit down and be quiet.”

“What could I possibly be distracting you from right now, Eva?”

Vilde woke up on her own when Eva dropped two different pots on the tiled floor, and Isak got to shut them both out as he holed up in his bedroom that smelled like Vilde's perfume.

  
+

The party that Even invited him to was the same party that all of his and Eva's friends were going to, which meant that Isak had to lie to the girls in his kitchen insistently about staying home so that he didn't have to tell them he had plans for something that might be a date and might only be a casual hangout. He really didn't want anyone else's input on this right now, not when he was just starting to sort it out himself. So he hoped that by the time Even planned to walk to Eva's, Eva and her friends would be done with their predrinks, and that by the time Even and Isak showed up at the party, all of them would be too wasted to notice that he was there, and that he was there with the boy he'd adamantly said didn't like him.

Wishful thinking, probably, but the least he could do was delay their questions until he was high.

Isak was someone who definitely regretted making plans when it was time to carry out said plans, but he didn't regret promising Even he'd go with him. They'd been texting all night and all day and Isak had never really been nervous around Even before outside of thinking that they had no reason to be friends and Even had no reason to be interested, but now he _was_ nervous. He didn't know why but he was, and he was excited because he felt like something had changed even if the way Even looked at him hadn't. And, yeah, he'd rather just chill at home but he wanted to see Even and it'd be way less awkward in a party full of people than alone in his bedroom. He tended to overthink and he knew that that would put him in the exact perfect mindset for overthinking.

He waited in his room while Eva had the girls over, and then he walked out fully dressed a few minutes before Even was supposed to come by to wolf whistles and catcalls.

“Stop,” he said, opening a kitchen cabinet and reaching into it.

“What's the occasion, sweatpants?” Chris asked as she sipped from a bottle of beer and appraised his ass with an obvious look.

“I'm going out,” Isak said, pulling down a ziplock bag with joints. Eva was watching him with narrowed eyes, and when he pulled a rolled blunt out and put the bag back in a mug he never used, she gasped.

“You keep _drugs_ in my kitchen?” she demanded.

“I can't keep them in my bedroom!” he protested.

“You most certainly can!” she said, slapping her palm down on the kitchen table, only halfway to drunk and a quarter of the way to blacking out.

“You don't want me smoking in the house!” he said. “This way I don't. If it's in my room it's too tempting, but I'd never walk all the way out here for a blunt.”

“You're so lazy,” Sana said.

“He's always been lazy,” Noora said. “Even when he lived in our living room he asked people to get him things from the kitchen.”

“Oh my God, we're not doing this right now!” he said. “Drag me some other time, Jesus Christ, I'm leaving.”

“Where are you going?” Vilde asked.

“Yeah, really,” Chris said. “You usually have to be forced to leave the house.”

“That's not true.” When they all voiced dissent at that statement he said, “Only a little true. Bye.”

“Where are you going!” Eva called.

“Study group,” he called back.

“It's ten o'clock on a Saturday,” she yelled as he opened the door, blunt in his back pocket and phone in hand.

He tended to get a bit overly defensive, he knew, it was something borne out of having all of his secrets exposed without his consent, something about no one understanding any of what he was going through when he was younger. No one else had parents as unstable as his were, no one else had to picture boys when they were fucking girls. He'd felt alone and now that he was older he was taking precautions to make sure he didn't share too much too soon, to make sure no one could know everything about him without Isak himself being the one to tell them. He kept things private now, even little things like this, and when he closed the door behind him with the girls still calling after him, it was just so that they wouldn't know what he wasn't ready to tell, it was so that they wouldn't think it was more than what it was and then expect that from him in the future.

It was cold outside, even with his hands tucked into his pockets and his hood pulled over his hair, but it didn't matter that his breath was frosting the air in front of him because there was Even, walking down the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlights.

“Hi,” Even said, stopping in front of him and smiling.

“Hi,” Isak answered quietly. Why did he feel so fucking _shy_ , he'd never felt shy around Even before. Because he'd never thought that he could have a chance with Even before, maybe, but—it wasn't a feeling he absolutely hated like he thought he would. Sure he was more out of control than he would normally like, but it wasn't excessive and it didn't make him feel powerless like it always had before, like it probably always would, to an extent. It felt good more than scary. It felt good to give up some of the control he always held onto so tightly, it felt good to not be so completely in charge. He wouldn't have thought that it would feel so good.

But he trusted Even. Was that stupid? They'd known each other since the beginning of the school year but hadn't started talking until halfway through their first semester. It'd been five months, maybe, of intermittent conversation. Was that enough time to trust someone?

Then again, he knew things about Even that no one else knew. That short amount of time didn't matter, did it, when he knew what Even looked like in second grade, when he knew that Even broke his foot in a car door? He knew that Even left a mother and father at home, that he had three older sisters who all left the house before he turned fifteen. He knew that Even wore glasses when he was ten because he lied on his eye exam so that he'd get to match his sisters, until his mom figured it out and made him take them off. He knew a million things about Even that weren't important, and that seemed to be the most important thing of all.

“How are you?” Even asked, still standing in front of him, looking cute and shy and perfect, the same way he always looked.

“I'm good,” Isak said, smiling up at him. “How are you?”

“Good,” Even said. “Great.”

“Great?” Isak asked, taking another step forward. They were so close. “Why's that?”

It seemed to take every ounce of courage Even had to say, “Because you're here, now.” His voice wavered and it was after a long hesitation wherein Even looked over his face with a kind of memorizing concentration, like he was afraid Isak would run away and he'd have nothing left but that last memory before he spoiled everything.

But Isak didn't run away. He'd never wanted to less.

“That's cute,” he said quietly, blushing and looking at the sidewalk instead of at Even. Until Even said, “Really?” and Isak had to look up at him and smile.

“Yes,” he said. “Really.”

“Does that mean you think... _I'm_ cute?” Even asked, seemingly gaining confidence the longer Isak didn't step away. “Or that you think what I said was cute?”

“Do you need to know the difference?” Isak asked. He was being challenging. Maybe he was being cute, too. Even certainly was, Isak hoped he could compete. Where did all that flirting expertise from high school go; maybe Magnus was right when he verbally degraded him as he tried to go on something he was slowly realizing was indeed a date, not just two bros from psychology chilling over coffee. Was he an idiot? He was starting to think that maybe he was an idiot. Screw straight A's, screw his 4.0 GPA. He didn't even know how to identify a date anymore. God, he used to be good at this.

“I'd like to,” Even said.

“Both, I guess,” Isak said. He smiled when Even did. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I want to hear the truth,” Even said. He was stepping even closer. Was there even space to fill anymore?

“That was the truth,” Isak answered. “Weren't we gonna go somewhere?”

“We were,” Even confirmed, still staring down at him.

“Are we still?”

“I guess we should.”

Isak smiled and pushed at Even's chest. “Let's go, then.”

Even smiled too. “Let's go.”

It was kind of hard to believe that this was happening; the last twenty-four hours seemed a bit surreal altogether. He'd just been hit with such a large realization, which was odd in and of itself because Isak liked to call himself a logical, observant person—you had to be to be good at research to be a biochem major, and you had to be good at looking at things objectively when you're always left behind. But when it came to another person, maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought he was.

“What'd you do all day?” Isak asked, hands in his pockets, looking up at Even.

“Slept in,” Even said. “Helped my roommate take one of the cats to the vet.”

“What was wrong with it?” Isak asked, wrinkling his nose up a bit. He didn't really like animals, and three cats seemed excessive. He could barely handle Eva's rodent.

“She was sneezing,” Even answered.

“That's it?”

“Mikael's a wine mom, kind of? Like, he's taking so few classes that he has nothing else to do but focus on the kids. And we don't have kids so they're cats. And he obsesses over them, so... vet.”

“Do they like him better than they like you?” Isak asked.

“Maybe a little bit. He's the one that feeds them and gives them treats and fattens them up, and they like that, I guess. But they're still dicks, just... in general.”

“So did the cat like the vet? What was wrong with it?”

“Nothing was wrong with it, I don't know. It just got some kind of cat cold, the vet said it'd pass. But two hundred dollars later here we are.”

Isak laughed. “Two hundred dollars?”

“Two hundred dollars.”

“Who has that kind of money?”

“It was a hundred bucks each when he and Mutta split the bill.”

“Still,” Isak muttered. He wished he had a hundred dollars to his name. As it were he had about twenty-eight dollars. And some spare change that listed around his pockets until he went to the laundromat and had to dig around in all his pants' pockets for coins.

“What did _you_ do today?” Even asked.

“Visited with friends. Studied,” Isak said, because what the hell else did he have to do? He spent his time equally in class, in the library, and in his bed. It was a three-point routine followed religiously; going to Magnus and Mahdi's had been a crazy outlier. “I have exams next week.”

“For which class?” Even asked.

“Physics and English.” First class at 9:05, second at 10:10. One exam right after the other, a lab after that, homework that'd take the rest of the night. He liked it like that, though. Kept him busy, and he always liked to stay busy these days. His days of lounging and partying in equal parts were over, he was above that. The only thing he had in common with that jackass was being a lazy, non-contributing roommate. If you could call living on a couch for two years and mooching off a friend with a rich mom the duties of a roommate instead of just what a homeless person does. He'd slept on more living room couches and spare bedroom floors than anyone he'd ever met.

“You're taking... five classes?” Even asked, the pause between words a clear calculation.

“I am,” Isak said with a smile, looking up at him. He was cute when he looked shocked, which happened any time he and Isak talked about academia. Shocked and confused with a little glint of wonder that Isak had never noticed before. He liked it when Even looked confused but he liked it better when Even looked at him like he was in absolute awe of Isak's mere presence. How had he not noticed before? Even didn't look at him any differently now than he always had; Isak just hadn't noticed.

“And three of them are labs?” Even asked, brows furrowed as they walked.

Isak bit his lip and smiled, shaking his head a little bit. He was _cute_ , no one warned him that Even Bech Næsheim, serial playboy, could be so fucking cute. “They are.”

“And you're still making A's?” Even said, sounding like he was trying to do a difficult calculation in his head.

“You're making A's, too,” Isak said.

“In _film_ class, Isak, I'm taking like twelve credit hours.”

Isak laughed because he sounded distressed, and this conversation was wholly not a big deal.

“Well I'm sure it's still important,” Isak said. “When you're a famous filmmaker you'll be glad you got straight A's in college.”

“I don't think it'll matter,” Even said. “I'm sure you don't even need to go school for it. Quentin Tarantino didn't go to college. Or James Cameron.”

“Who's James Cameron?” Isak asked.

“ _Titanic_. And Christofer Nolan didn't, I don't think.” At one glance at Isak, he smiled and said, “ _Batman_ , Isak, Jesus.”

“Why do you know that all these people didn't go to college?”

“Because I did a lot of research because I didn't want to go to college,” he said. “When I was in high school. But my parents made me apply so. Here I am.”

“That sucks,” Isak said.

“Yeah,” Even said. “I don't think parents should make their kids go to college. I didn't do well for the entire first year because I didn't give a shit.”

It happened with Eva, too. She hated high school, couldn't make herself focus, couldn't get good grades no matter how hard she tried. Her mom made her go to college and she dropped out in the first semester to pursue a career that she would love and be good at. A career that she didn't need a college education for, just some training and a lot of long hours. Soon she'd be upper management at nineteen years old, she'd make a salaried employee with a few more years of experience.

“I can understand that,” Isak said.

“Did your parents want you to go?” Even asked.

“I haven't talked to my parents since I was seventeen,” Isak said, glancing up to gauge Even's reaction to that. “They didn't have much to... do with it. But my roommates encouraged it, and Jonas and Eva. So. I'm here.”

“Don't you like it?” Even asked. “You seem like you like school, like learning.”

“I do,” Isak conceded. “I'm glad I'm here, now that I'm here. But I had a kind of... directionless life when I was in high school. I wanted to do well in it but I didn't see myself having a really bright future. I was just going to live on the couch forever, I guess, until I figured things out. I'm glad I came, though.”

“Me, too,” Even said, then blushed. “I mean, because you'll do really good stuff with your education.”

“Thanks,” Isak said with a smile. “I hope so.”

He had started to be able to feel the bass in the soles of his feet, and that familiar dread began when he came into view of the house. No way this wouldn't get shut down by the police within the hour, absolutely no way. But it was better with Even than it was with his friends, because his friends always made him come and then left him, but Even wouldn't leave him, he knew that.

They turned up the driveway and had to edge around a girl vomiting into the brambles with a very sober, very tolerant friend holding her hair back with one hand and swiping through Instagram with the other. When he saw things like that he thought no guy could ever deserve any girl. Girls were just so _nice_ to each other. They were so nice to everyone, and drunk girls were a special kind of lovely, all full of compliments and half-baked confessions. But even better than the instant friendships between drunk girls was the way Even put his hand on the small of Isak's back to ease him forward, past the vomit, onto the porch. He didn't have to do that, and his fingers didn't have to linger, but he did and they did and Isak was trying not to smile like a fucking dork.

It was packed inside, so dense Isak was sure they'd be compacted into the crowd and never be let out again. But Even took his hand—his _hand—_ in a totally platonic way, probably, just so that they didn't get separated, and started walking, and Isak felt shoulders shove into him from every side but, _God_ , Even holding his hand to walk him through the crowd felt so much different than Jonas doing it, or Eva, or anyone else.

He didn't understand what the hell was happening and he didn't care. He didn't care that he'd only been made aware of Even's potential feelings yesterday, he didn't care that he'd been repressing his own. He usually cared about these things, he usually wanted an explanation outside of just, “This feels good so let's go with it.” Feelings were different than fact and Isak had become reliant on fact.

The kitchen was a little quieter than the living room had been, a little less full, but it was tiny and Even managed to snag a beer bottle from the fridge with his free hand before pulling them out again, until they were in a room with a beer pong table and a cheering crowd, and then a quiet alcove in the back of the house with an encompassing view of the rest of the party. Even dropped Isak's hand because it wasn't really necessary for them to be latched together anymore, but he'd still held it for longer than he needed to, and that's what Isak focused on. He watched Even realize that he didn't have a bottle opener, and then watched him crack the top off on the edge of a table. It was... hot, and Isak didn't know why. Didn't know if it was just adrenaline from being in such a high-energy location, or if it was just confidence because Even had made himself obvious and Isak had finally seen it.

Even had to yell to be heard, but it wasn't as bad as it would have been in other parts of the house. He didn't have to lean in as close as he was, but Isak didn't mind. He smelled good. “This isn't really as nice as I'd pictured when I asked you to come with me,” he said.

Isak smiled. “That's okay,” he said. “I'm not picky.” This was an absolute lie, he was the pickiest person he knew. Someone who only ever slept on couches and in spare bedrooms should not have been this particular, but Isak was. He was particular in his friendships, in his hookups, in the activities he chose to do. He was picky about food and books and movies. He was not easygoing by any means but he felt like given time, Even would discover this on his own. Right now he didn't need to know. Because Isak was picky but he wasn't having a bad time. Sure it was loud and crowded and he'd be exhausted in about thirty minutes, but it wasn't _not_ fun. Even made a lot of boring shit fun, like psychology test reviews and sitting in Eva's living room on his phone instead of in his bedroom because it'd been loaned out to someone else.

“I have pot,” Isak offered, taking the blunt out of his pocket. It wasn't very pretty—fatter in the middle than the ends, a messy finish on the rolling—but he'd come to learn that rolling blunts wasn't an important skill to have because there was always someone else who could roll them, and aesthetic had little to do with getting high.

Even's smile was bright. “Nice,” he said, reaching down his front pocket and producing a pink lighter. Isak put the end of the blunt to his lips, tasted blueberry from the wrap flavor before he knocked out the tobacco. Even didn't hand him the lighter, just scraped out a flame and held it to the end of the blunt as Isak inhaled. It was unnecessary and a little inconvenient but Isak thought it was sweet, as if Even could know that he always burnt his fingers because it took so long to catch. He finally got a lungful of smoke instead of clean air, and handed the blunt to Even as he exhaled.

“Fuck,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall for a moment and closing his eyes. He'd been smoking a little more lately, because he'd been staying at Jonas's more than Eva's and Jonas was extremely pro-weed, but it hadn't been long enough for his tolerance to raise up to the level it'd been at in high school. Sharing an entire blunt with one person might very well kill him but he didn't care. He'd been stressing over finding somewhere permanent to live, he'd been stressing over Vilde because he wanted to help because he knew more than most how terrible that situation was. He'd been stressing over schoolwork and English assignments that he didn't understand. Getting stoned at the end of the week when homework could wait until tomorrow was one of life's simplest pleasures.

He loved being high. Sometimes he forgot that, until he was high again. It was an incomparable feeling.

He opened his eyes in time to see Even let his breath out, a thin cloud of smoke that smelled sweet. “This is good pot,” Even said, turning the blunt over in his fingers and examining the contents. “Where'd you get this?”

“My friend Mahdi,” Isak said, taking the offered blunt. Mahdi always saved him some when he was selling, because he knew Isak couldn't afford it if he wanted to eat that month, and, like a true friend, he didn't want to make Isak choose between getting stoned and getting fed. “I can tell him you want some, if you want.” He took a pull and felt the smoke in his lungs, tasted it on his tongue. Wished he had the courage to ask Even to shotgun, or to pull him outside where it was quieter. As it were he just stood there, leaning against the wall next to the boy he wished he could kiss just to know what it was like. And maybe because he wanted Even, now, like he'd never let himself before.

“That'd be great,” Even said, standing close. Had he always been standing so close? Damn, four drags in and Isak was already feeling hazy. He needed to stay with Jonas more often. “I don't really know your friends,” Even said. “I've met your roommate's friends more than yours. I mean, I met Magnus once.”

Isak looked at him with furrowed brows. “You did? When?”

Even's face changed and Isak knew he was lying when he said, “Yousef dragged me to Sana's the other day, and Magnus was there with one of her roommates.” He knew there was an omission but he didn't care. There was probably a reason for it.

“Oh,” Isak said. “Vilde, yeah, the girl who's been staying in my bedroom. They're really close, they used to date, they're still a little bit in love with each other, I think.”

“I thought Vilde was gay,” Even said. “Chris made that clear in graphic terms, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, Chris will do that,” Isak said with a smile. He was feeling good as he took another pull. “They're in love with each other just because of... what they represent to each other. Vilde was Magnus's first everything and Magnus was with her when her life was really hard. So. They just kind of still see that in each other.”

“That's really nice,” Even said, smiling. “I wish my first relationship ended that well.”

“I'm sure it wasn't that bad,” Isak said.

“I cheated on her a bunch and she hates me now,” Even said around the blunt. “You forgot about that?”

“ _She_ was your first relationship?” Isak asked in shock. “The _model_?”

“She wasn't a model when I started dating her,” Even said, like that changed literally anything.

“You've never dated anyone but her?” Isak asked, and they'd talked about this before, they _had_ , but for some reason he'd never processed that a relationship started at fifteen and lasting until twenty was a lifetime's relationship with little room for anything that could come before. “No way.”

“She was it,” Even said. “Five years with her, no one else.” When Isak raised his eyebrows, Even laughed and said, “No one else long-term.”

“For more than a night?”

“There were a couple booty calls after the fact,” Even said, and then flushed pink as Isak laughed. He didn't mind hearing about Even's adventures in sex, it didn't make him feel bad. Because right now he was with Isak, his attention was on Isak, and Isak didn't care about anyone else just like Even didn't seem to. “But I don't want to do that anymore.”

Isak looked up at him, tipped his head against the wall. “No?” he asked, and it came out more scared than he'd intended, but it didn't betray too much. It didn't give up the extent of his fear, the wavering courage it took him to even be here because there was always the potential of being left again like he was always left. He had told Even more than he'd told anyone in a long time, and his life had been ruined by that before.

Even smiled at him and shook his head. “No,” he said, and then they were kissing.

It was short, soft. Even's bottom lip between both of Isak's, closed-mouth. Isak's eyes barely had time to close, but he could feel Even's hands on his cheeks as if they'd been there for hours. As if they'd been there forever.

Even pulled back, looked at him, hands cupping his jaw with Isak's grip tight around his wrists. He was looking down, letting his thumbs brush over Isak's cheeks. And he asked something Isak hadn't ever heard before.

“Is this okay?”

And Isak could only look at him.

Saying no had become something precious to him. He'd spent so long just agreeing to things, agreeing to watch his mother while his dad went out, agreeing to sex whether or not he really wanted it. When his father left Isak didn't fight it, didn't try to get him back. And he wanted to say that it wasn't damaging, that it didn't hurt, but he couldn't. He couldn't say that it didn't mess him up, always saying yes, because it did. He didn't fight, he didn't argue, he didn't stand up for himself, and his self-confidence took all sorts of blows, his self-worth dipped further than anyone else's. The lower his self-image got, the worse he let people treat him. He felt like he invited it, really, like every time he took a hit to his self-esteem people could just sense it, he carried himself differently, _something_ happened to make everyone know they could do whatever they wanted to him. It came to a head when he was seventeen and in the closet, and his one-night stand spilled his secrets. After that he learned the power of saying no. It wasn't immediate, wasn't even close. It took a long time, a time in which he still answered his dad's calls, still went out at night when he'd rather stay home, still hooked up with girls and boys, still drank too much because beer cans were still offered to him.

But Eskild helped him say no. Taught him that it was okay to, that he didn't owe anybody anything. That it was better for him and things that were good for him weren't bad for others. And as soon as he grasped it, he clung to it. It was a lifeline, something precious to him. He had the ability to say no, he had the right to.

He looked up at Even, biting his lip. He watched his eyes move over his face, he held his forearms in his fingers. And he said, “Yes,” because he wanted to. Because it was his decision that Even was allowing him to make, instead of making it for him. Instead of assuming it would be the answer. Yes because he wanted to, because he could, because it felt good.

And then Even was kissing him again, and that felt even better.

Isak's back hit the wall and the blunt had been stubbed out sometime in the first kiss. Even's hands were still on him, more insistent in their touches now, and Isak let one palm stray to the back of Even's neck, to the hair at the back of his head. God, it was like he had never been kissed before. He pulled Even closer, always closer, always harder, always _more_. He opened his mouth and Even grabbed at his waist. They were pressed together and the softness had vanished sometime during the second minute, but the kiss went on for longer. Sometimes they pulled apart, looked at each other, caught their breath and smiled like neither of them could believe it. Isak sure couldn't.

His mind was hazy from the weed and hazy from Even, and it only heightened everything else. He didn't know how long they kissed, how much of Even he'd felt beneath his fingers. He didn't know who was looking and what they were thinking, didn't know if his friends were there and didn't care. But he knew he'd never liked kissing this much, he knew that there was no rush. He knew that this was his choice, that Even's lips were some of the best he'd ever touched.

He knew that when Even pulled back with a question on his lips, his answer would be yes, again and again.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Even asked, and Isak nodded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @supermansplaining and while i can't promise you that i'll answer all anons (there's a lot and i don't want to spam my followers) i appreciate all of your messages so much, send me anything and if it's a private ask or a dm i'll always answer :) i can't guarantee that anons will stay on forever, but we can hope! i'm still trying to answer all comments, i'm sorry if that takes a long time, but even if i'm not answering right away i'm reading them all so thank you in advance! i love you guys <3


	4. Frank Ocean: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi babes sorry this is being posted in the middle of the day on a monday; most of this was written in a hungover haze yesterday and since i finally was back in the mood to write i wrote more today in the library instead of doing the actual school-related things i need to be doing. and i finished, so yay :) enjoy <3

**EVEN**

The walk back to Isak's wasn't heavy. It wasn't frantic, rushed. It wasn't anything but the way it'd been before, with just a little more. With a few more shared smiles as they picked their jackets up at the door, blushes when their hands brushed as they reached for the doorknob at the same time. There was more silence than there was before, as they stepped outside and put their hands in their pockets so they wouldn't be tempted to reach for each other. As they were leaving, Even didn't care if they had sex. He didn't care if they never kissed again. As long as Even got to be here with him right now. As long as Even got to walk through his door, set foot in his room. As long as he was here, right now, Even didn't need anything more.

It took a few minutes for the awkward glances to stop, for them to face each other and smile fully, unashamed. The time between the first half of a hookup and the second was never fun, it was never full of passion like people in movies tried to make it seem. It cut to the couple bursting through the front door, kissing in the sheets, it didn't cover any of the time between the bar and the bedroom.

Even didn't usually like it, this time to get to know the person he was going home with. Always their home, never his. If Isak had asked, Even would've taken him to his own room, his own house, a place personal to him that he'd been too scared to take anyone else, a place he wouldn't be able to leave right away like he needed to do. He would never leave Isak without explanation.

This time between was usually full of awkward starts and stops. The girl he was with, or the boy, or the person, would always try to talk, but Even fell in love too easy. So he didn't talk back, he shut them up with kisses, pressed them back against the walls of apartment buildings they were passing. He didn't get to know them because he _wanted_ to get to know them, and if he got to know them nothing would be good again. He hurt people, he broke things, it's what he did. He'd loved Sonja more than he'd ever loved anyone, and he'd been loved by her in the best way he'd ever been. And still, _still_ he messed it up. Still he slept with other people, when he was dating her. And yes things had changed, no it wasn't love anymore, not the kind of love it had been or the kind of love it should've been. But it'd been he who ruined that, too, that relationship they used to have.

As he looked at Isak, though, watched him avert his eyes with a blush at being caught looking, he knew he wouldn't ruin it this time, wouldn't sabotage it, wouldn't run because it was scary, because things got bad for him again. He looked at Isak and thought that for the first time he might deserve this, might deserve him; it'd been a year since Sonja and the self-punishment had lasted that long, too.

He didn't mind moving slowly because it felt like they had plenty of time, and Even didn't feel that way very often.

“Do you want to listen to music?” Isak asked, looking up at him, breaking a silence broken already by crickets and frogs and a thousand nighttime things. Even smiled. He liked him a lot, he wouldn't mess it up. He would do everything in his power not to mess it up.

“Sure,” Even said.

Isak put his hand in his jacket pocket, fished around for his headphones after he'd retrieved his phone. Even liked looking at his profile as they walked beneath streetlights.

“Here,” Even said, after noticing he'd been fumbling with the knots in his headphones. He took the wire from his hands. “I'll do it.”

“Are you good at unknotting earbuds?” Isak asked, relenting into his grip, their fingers sliding together as Isak drew his hand back to himself.

“It's one of my talents,” Even said, and liked how Isak smiled. “I have a couple of them. A couple great talents.”

“What are those?” Isak asked, amusement in his tone as he looked at him. “Criticizing Michael Bay movies? Adding things to your Netflix queue that you don't actually watch and then complaining when Netflix gets rid of them?”

They really did know each other.

“To name a few,” Even said, smirking upon his success at untangling the headphones, handing them back to Isak with satisfaction in his smile.

“Wow,” Isak said, plugging them into his phone and handing one of the buds to Even with a smile that he was clearly trying not to make a big deal of. Isak didn't like it when other people were right, or he didn't like showing that he liked it. He didn't like it when people did things that he couldn't do, but he didn't seem to mind it when it was Even on the other end. “This is true talent.”

Even's roommates were all home, and as much as he'd wanted to take Isak there to show him that he wasn't afraid of this, of them, of what was going to happen, he didn't want to subject Isak to the knowing stares or—God forbid—questions from the five other boys who knew him better than anyone. Those boys who had listened to Even talk about Isak for weeks, months, since the beginning of school when he barely knew him at all—they wouldn't let Even walk in with the hottest boy in the world and say nothing about it. So when Isak suggested his place—because Eva would be out all night and she had work the next morning early on—Even didn't argue, didn't try to say, “Let's go to mine, Isak, because if we go to mine you know I won't leave in the morning, or leave when I'm finished, or leave when I say I'll stay and you've been asleep for an hour.” He wanted Isak to know, but he'd just have to prove it himself.

A song started, soft at first. Isak turned up the volume and put the phone in his pocket, and Even could only hear it in one ear but knowing Isak was hearing with the other was nicer.

“Frank Ocean,” Even said, turning to look at him, and Isak hummed and smiled, tilting his face so that their eyes would meet, and his hand was just hanging there between them, there was no room in his pocket with his phone in there, and Even couldn't not touch him anymore.

From all the things they'd done that night, holding hands was the most innocent. Even the looks they'd shared had been more heated than this.

Isak looked down at their joined hands, like he'd never done this before. Even wondered if he had.

He was about to pull away when Isak turned to look ahead again and smiled, fingers still kept tight between Even's. Even didn't see how anyone could use Isak Valtersen like Isak Valtersen had been used in the past. He couldn't see how anyone could spend a night with him and leave the next day, how anyone could have a taste and not want more. He was more than his face and his body, he was more than a one-time anything.

Even liked Frank Ocean. He liked being here with Isak, walking down the street with him, listening to Frank Ocean with him. He liked quiet times with Isak just as much as the spoken ones, and he liked that he knew everything, knew that Isak liked soccer and could talk to his friends about players and teams that Even had never heard of. He knew that Isak read books, like actual physical books that he got from a used book store ten minutes away by tram, spines all bent and crackled, covers falling open to certain pages and certain phrases. He knew that Isak was always with three boys, knew their names were Jonas and Magnus and Mahdi, knew that Isak had been friends with Jonas since he started school at five years old. He knew things that weren't important, things that didn't matter at all, like that Isak took his coffee with sugar but nothing else, like that Isak wore beanies even when it wasn't that cold out whenever he didn't feel like dealing with his hair in the mornings. But he knew the heavy stuff, too, knew because he'd asked and because Isak had answered. And both meant a lot to him, knowing the small stuff, knowing the large.

Even had always been obsessed with romance, with making things epic and grand and perfect. He'd done it with Sonja, and it'd worked, for a little bit. But he didn't have the movie mind, he didn't act like his characters would. He got out of his own control and did things he couldn't think through, and he was seventeen when he was diagnosed and it crushed him, destroyed him, because his life wasn't supposed to be like this. He was depressed for half the year and had to repeat his last year while his friends graduated and got jobs and put off school because his suicide attempt had hurt a lot of people, not just himself. He had tried so hard for perfection, had hated himself when that wasn't his life, had hated the situation he was put in. He drew away from everyone, pulled away and wouldn't let them in, and his relationship with Sonja had suffered the most, because she just wanted to help. She loved him and she just wanted to help, and he couldn't take it. He couldn't reconcile feeling weak with being strong, and he hated it and he hated her for bringing it up, when it wasn't her fault at all.

He looked at Isak. He listened to Frank Ocean. He felt a hand in his, the pressure of fingers between his own.

He didn't want to mess this up like he messed up everything else.

“I like Frank Ocean,” he said, because suddenly he couldn't not be talking to Isak anymore, he couldn't not be hearing his voice and learning more. He wanted to learn about Isak for as long as he could, and there was so much to know, eighteen years before they met that Even only knew months of.

“Me, too,” Isak said with a smile, turning to look at him as they walked. He was pulled tight to Even's side in the cold and Even kicked himself for not being able to know when that happened. Being aware of that one moment was something he'd never have, now, but at least he still had Isak pressed close, the feel of their arms brushed together, at least he still had Isak right now. “He made us wait a long time, but the latest album was worth it.”

“What other music do you like?” Even asked, and Isak handed his phone over after unlocking it with his thumb. Even took it in his free hand and scrolled through the playlist. Frank Ocean and Cat Stevens and Catfish and the Bottlemen, among NWA and Logic and Kendrick Lamar. He smiled when he saw Khalid.

“That's quite a mix,” Even said, but, honestly, if Isak ever got a look at Even's Spotify he'd see what a mix truly was. “What's your favorite?”

Isak hummed a little, and turned the volume down on the phone when he got it back in his hand. “I guess it depends on what I'm in the mood for, but mostly, like, nineties hip hop. It's all I listened to in high school, but when I moved in with Eskild and Noora and Linn I... adopted some of their tastes.” He looked up. “What do you like?”

“Nineties hip hop,” Even said with a smile, brushing his thumb across Isak's hand.

“Really?” Isak asked, an eyebrow cocked. “You're not just saying that to get in my pants?” He clicked his tongue and looked ahead. “I've been burned before.”

Even laughed. “No, I really like it. Nas, have you listened to him?”

“Nas?” Isak asked, and shook his head when Even nodded. “No, I haven't.”

“Wow, what a fake fan,” Even said.

“I never claimed to be a fan!” Isak said with a laugh. Was it possible for talking about music to be more intimate than sex? They'd both had sex before, a lot of times before, they'd both been with other people and they both knew their bodies. Sex was intimate, it was giving up a part of yourself, but it was only a bodily part, a physical part. Even was so beyond the physical part right now, he wanted to _know_ Isak Valtersen, he wanted to know him better than anyone did. That's what he cared about. If he never saw Isak naked it would suck, sure, but it wouldn't be as bad as Isak just... leaving. It wouldn't be as bad as not knowing anymore than he knew then.

“You need to listen to him,” Even said. “He's great, he'll change your life. I'll play it for you later.”

Isak smiled at that, still looking ahead instead of at Even, and it felt like a secret moment, that smile, a moment that Even was allowed to look in on.

They stopped at Isak's apartment and Even was suddenly nervous, looking up at the building with Isak's hand in his, the hand of the boy he liked so much, the boy he'd been crushing on for so long. He was nervous because he tended to mess this up, he _always_ messed this up. Isak had told him that he was prone to overthinking, Even had the opposite problem. And he just really didn't want to mess this up.

Isak nudged him with his shoulder and looked up with a soft smile. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't scared. He was at peace and it put Even more at peace, too. “You okay?” he asked, fingers tight and grounding between Even's own.

Even nodded, smiled back. “I'm great.”

“Want to go inside?” Isak asked, swinging their joined hands a little. “We don't have to. We can get McDonald's, or call this a night.”

Part of Even wanted to say yes, wanted to take Isak to McDonald's and buy him a Big Mac, wanted to sit with him into the early morning hours and drink milkshakes and share french fries. Part of Even thought that that would be the right choice, would be the choice that made them _last_ like he so desperately wanted.

But another part of Even couldn't wait. The part that made rash decisions and didn't think things through and wanted Isak _now_ because he was used to having one chance, one night, no time.

“I'd love to go inside,” Even said with a smile, squeezing his hand.

So they did. Isak unlocked the door, releasing Even's hand to open it. They walked up the stairs and Even watched Isak's ass as he climbed behind him, one hand on the railing and gaze locked firm. He'd taken plenty of time to appreciate Isak's body, but he'd always felt like a creep for doing it. He felt like it was allowed, now. If all went well he'd be seeing that body naked in a few minutes, so looking at it clothed was nothing.

Isak opened the door to Eva's apartment and turned on the light, and they walked into a very neat kitchen and living room, a coffee table, a hamster cage with shredded newspapers littering the sides. There was a hallway that Isak led him down with a gentle tug on his hand, after their shoes had been discarded in the large heap by the door, a heap composed of mostly women's shoes beneath a coatrack containing mostly women's coats. Even Isak's room was crowded with mostly women's items; a flat iron, perfume, lipsticks, knit scarves. It smelled like flowery shampoo but so did Isak, really, so Even couldn't attribute that to the girl who was staying in this bedroom instead of Isak most nights.

There was Isak's stuff, too, but it was mostly in the form of textbooks crowding the little desk and dirty clothes on the floor that Isak halfheartedly kicked aside as he entered. Even closed the door behind them and Isak smiled at him.

“Do you want to smoke some more?” Isak asked, because he still had more than half a blunt in his back pocket; they'd been preoccupied with other things before they got the chance to finish, and Even wasn't in any rush, and it felt like the first time ever that he wasn't.

“Yeah,” Even said, and watched Isak smile and watched Isak turn around and watched Isak find a lighter on his windowsill and open the window to the night. It was cold outside, there was city noise in the form of tires on pavement and carried voices. But it still felt like just the two of them when Even sat down beside him on the bed, carefully, gingerly, leaving space between them just in case. He didn't want to push too much, didn't want to go too fast, and he knew Isak wasn't some virginal schoolboy but even if they'd slept around the same amount, even if they knew what to expect, even if Isak had done more when he was younger and Even more when he was older, he was still afraid of this going wrong.

Usually at this point his clothes were off. Usually this whole routine was without wasted time, because this wasn't something he liked to prolong, it was just something to get off and feel better, to release tension because he wasn't an angry person and he wasn't an active person, but he liked sex and he could get it and it de-stressed him for a little bit.

But there was no wasted time with Isak, there was nothing they'd done that he'd wished they hadn't. It wasn't just sex and he hoped it never would be.

Isak settled back against the headboard and lit the blunt between his lips with concentration, cursing and shaking his hand out when it wouldn't light and burnt his thumb instead. So Even took the lighter and lit it for him like he'd done before, and it burnt him too but he was being chivalrous, damn it, and if he couldn't make himself relax against the pillows like Isak had then he could do this. A blunt would surely ease some tension, because the high that'd given him confidence an hour ago was gone now.

Isak just made him so _nervous._ He didn't think he'd ever been this nervous around someone before, and it wasn't just because he wanted to sleep with him or because he was attractive, but because he was an intimidating presence in the worst way possible; he didn't _know_ he was intimidating. He didn't know a lot of things and Even knew he should find it adorable, how clueless he was, but he didn't, it just scared him. He always felt like Isak couldn't ever care about him as much as he cared for Isak, because every feeling he expressed, Isak took as a revelation.

“Thank you,” Isak said with a smile once the blunt was lit, and every time Isak smiled at him he wanted to melt into the floorboards.

“No problem,” Even choked out, voice hoarse. He cleared it as Isak handed the blunt over, grateful for the momentary distraction, the time to collect his thoughts and look around Isak's room again. There weren't many photos on the walls, but those that were there were of friends, not family. His friend Jonas, mostly, and Magnus and Mahdi, the boys Even saw Isak with all the time around campus when Isak was paying him no mind. There were a few with Eva, a few with a man a little older than himself. That was a point of conversation that Even didn't have to think too hard about.

“Who's that?” he asked, pointing across the room to one of the pictures pinned to the wall above Isak's desk. Isak squinted and took a drag.

“In which one?”

“The... the guy who's not your three friends.”

Isak huffed a little, which was fucking cute. “I have more than three friends.”

“Yeah, you have your three friends and whoever that guy is.”

“He's not a boyfriend, Even,” Isak said in faux-exasperation, smiling as he did so. “I know you're about to ask.”

“I'm not about to ask,” Even lied, because he really was, even though Isak had told him on many separate occasions that there hadn't been a boyfriend to ask about. “I'm just curious. Making conversation, like you do with someone you're in bed with.”

“You can't say you're in bed with me when we're just sitting on top of the covers on a bed, that's not what that means.”

“Why are you avoiding telling me who that guy is?”

“I'm not avoiding it I just want to clear up that you're not in bed with me.”

“Not yet.”

Isak looked at him with an open mouth before breathing a laugh and looking forward again with a lingering smile. “Shit. You got confident.”

“That happens when I'm in bed with someone.”

“Oh my God.”

Even took another drag from the blunt and leaned his head back against the wall, looking at Isak with a smile. He liked this Isak, he liked this confidence, the easy conversation. He liked Isak's bite, his sharp words, he always had. From the first time he talked to him, high at a party, when Isak was a little too fucked up for self-preservation and kept being sarcastic and confident because he was too far gone to be guarded like he tended to be sober. He liked him so much when he was being himself.

“That's Eskild,” Isak said, smile softening as he leaned back alongside Even, tilting his head to look at him. “I lived with him in high school.”

“Oh,” Even said. “Okay, I've asked you if you two were dating before, I guess I don't need to do it again.”

“You're safe,” Isak said with a small laugh.

Even looked around again, but there wasn't much else to talk about. A lot of the stuff wasn't Isak's, it was a girl's, probably Vilde's, and Even didn't want to ask about that because he knew how Isak felt about burdening his friends and he knew that Isak thought living with Eva was the greatest injustice in the world to the girl. It was probably safer to just not say anything.

Even looked at him and Isak looked back, hands still trying to balance the dwindling blunt without burning his fingers. He smiled, and so did Even.

“So what do you wanna do?” Isak asked, taking the responsibility of starting conversation from Even's hands. It didn't sound forced when it was Isak who started talking, didn't sound like a desperation to fill the silence. The silence was all that bad, either, though. “After you graduate with your film degree, what are you gonna do with it?”

“Probably work in a coffee shop or something,” Even said, taking a drag when Isak handed the blunt over. “Because I'll have a film degree.”

Isak laughed. “Fine, what do you _want_ to do with it? Be a director?”

Even shook his head, “I don't know. It's like... there's so many different things I _can_ do, there's a lot of different parts to making a movie, I could focus on a lot of different things, and realistically there's probably only a few things that I can do—”

“But if you could do anything,” Isak asked with an eye roll. “Don't overthink it, Even, just... what would you want to do if you could do it?”

Even had never been called out for overthinking before—he was rash and didn't think through the potential consequences of his actions; no one had ever called him too careful, too thoughtful. Maybe the fear of that lack of control made him overthink. A career was a big decision; he was twenty-one and deciding most of the rest of his life and it was scary. And usually he just jumped right in but he'd spent his life doing that and it'd left him with nothing except a reputation and a few scars. This choice had to be different.

“I guess cinematography, or photography, or something,” Even said. “I like art, I like... looking at pretty things.” He turned to face Isak more bodily, saw him smiling at his answer. “What do you want to do? With your biochem degree?”

“Go to grad school and then do research,” Isak said, without hesitation. But he wouldn't hesitate; Isak Valtersen was someone who had his life figured out. Someone who planned and someone who _knew_. Isak Valtersen was in control of his life in the way Even never had been and only recently had wanted to be.

“What kind of research?” Even asked, watching his profile as Isak took a pull, cheeks hollowed on the inhale and mouth parted on the exhale.

“For medicine. Or diseases. Some... research that does something, I guess.”

“Find a cure for cancer?” Even asked, and Isak smiled.

“Maybe,” he said, and shifted so their shoulders were touching more.

Even's phone vibrated once, then twice, and then approximately six billion times in succession, so he pulled it from his pocket as discretely as possible to silence it, cursing under his breath when he turned the volume up instead of down.

“That your mom?” Isak asked, and Even laughed as he finally got it quiet. He took a look at the screen and saw the groupchat that he'd expected.

“Those are my roommates,” Even said, swiping through the messages just so that the notification would go away. They were desperately trying to find him at the party he said he'd be at, apparently, and couldn't do it in one collective message like normal people.

“Your five roommates,” Isak said.

“You really like that I have five roommates, don't you?” Even asked, setting his phone on the bedside table after typing out a quick, _I'm at Isak's,_ the repercussions of which he was in no rush to face.

“I've never met someone with so many roommates before,” Isak said. “Or with so many cats.”

“I refuse to take responsibility for those cats, they hate me, I don't count as an owner. That's all Mikael.” Isak was so close, pressed against his side like this, and it was innocent; everything they had done since the dirty makeout had been thoroughly innocent and Even liked it a lot. He was also a little bit afraid to switch the mood back to what it'd been at the party; he'd never had this innocence with hookups before, this was how it'd been with Sonja, in the beginning. Before the diagnosis and the attempt, before the monthly breakups and makeups. Their relationship hadn't felt like a relationship for a long time, but at the beginning it was good. It was great and he was in love but he messed it up like he was afraid of messing up Isak. He didn't want to move too fast. He always moved too fast, acted before thinking, he was a _creative_ type as his mom liked to say; it was a synonym for impulsive and rash, apparently, and for most of his life he hadn't failed to live by that definition.

Isak was pinching the last of the blunt between two fingers and he smiled at Even despite the silence, because Isak was more chill than Even would ever be, really. When they were old and gray Even would still be out of breath when Isak made eye contact, he'd still get nervous and wonder if he deserved all this, and _there_ was a perfect example of lack of chill, thinking into a potential future with a boy he'd known less than a year and had only kissed once.

“Wanna shotgun?” Even asked hoarsely, desperately, and then couldn't believe that the words had just come from his mouth. Those were two words said with the least amount of composure, totally and obviously affected by Isak's thigh and shoulder against his own, by the proximity of Isak's lips, by the high that wasn't helping tamp his nerves as much as he'd hoped it would.

Isak just smiled at him, though, and Even liked it when Isak smiled at him.

“Yeah,” Isak said, and then Even didn't know what to do. Sonja didn't smoke, and he hadn't used this party trick on anyone before—this had been a decision with the absolute least amount of thought behind it possible.

Luckily Isak seemed to have control of his limbs, and he shifted so he was facing Even and it urged Even to do the same. They were cross-legged on the bed, right in front of each other now, and Even couldn't stop looking at him. It seemed different from all the other times he'd found himself looking at Isak, it felt closer. It was only a little bit better; it'd always been good.

“Ready?” Isak asked with a smile, holding the blunt up. Even nodded so he could watch Isak take the hit, could watch the way his cheeks pulled in and his eyes blinked closed. Isak held the smoke in his lungs as he stubbed the blunt out and left the roach on the bedside table. And then his hand cupped Even's chin to tilt it the right way, and their lips almost touched but didn't, and Even had to remind himself to inhale because he thought that maybe he'd forgotten how to breathe. He had to tell himself over and over again not to kiss him; shotgunning was a prelude to a kiss, it wasn't an actual kiss, and he could wait until the smoke got lost between them and there was nothing else between their lips. He could wait.

It was supposed to be better when you did this, more potent. The smoke was stuck between four lungs instead of diffusing into the air, it was supposed to get you higher. People didn't use it to get higher, though, people did it to be sexy for Snapchat or to get the boy they like to finally kiss them again without having to ask.

It was Isak who closed the distance, Isak who kissed him.

Isak was the perfect kisser, but then Even thought that everything Isak did was perfect. He'd had a crush on him for so long with the highest expectations and Isak had exceeded every one.

Isak moved so that Even was on his back on the bed and Isak was leaning over him.

And Even decided to petty, really petty, just because he wanted to know. He wanted to be sure.

“What about Kristian?” he asked, and Isak was confused from the sudden question, the sudden break from the kiss, and looked down with furrowed brows, hands on Even's t-shirt collar.

“Who's Kristian?”

And that was a better answer than Even could ever have wished for.

“No one, never mind.”

“You're being weird.”

Even smiled because Isak was smiling. “I'm not being weird. This is just who I am.”

“I feel like you tricked me. I don't know if I want to sleep with a jealous dork.”

“Jealous? Me?” He stroked a hand through Isak's hair and down his back. “I've never been jealous in my life. You think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?”

“I hate you,” Isak said with a smile, and leaned down to kiss him again.

“You do not,” Even said, and he felt lighter now, he felt better. More confident. Knowing that it was real, that Isak _wanted_ him; that gave him more confidence than anything else, any history of hookups, any sexual skill. “You're really hot,” Even murmured against his lips. “So hot.”

Isak pulled back to smile down at him, like he couldn't quite believe that'd just been said. “You're already in my bed,” he said, leaning in close again and making Even smile into the kiss, “you don't have to keep flirting.”

“I just needed you to know,” Even said, rolling them over so that Isak was on his back and Even had a better angle to tug at his shirt and take control of the kiss. He could kiss Isak forever, probably.

“You're hot, too,” Isak said with a breathless laugh, Even's hand tracing under his shirt and he could _feel_ that Isak had abs and, holy shit, this had been the thing of fantasies for months and now he was actually _in_ those fantasies like he'd only ever hoped he'd be.

“Yeah but you're hot and cute,” Even said between kisses at his neck. “Hot and cute and pretty.”

“That's a lot of compliments,” Isak said, shifting on the bed with his breath coming out a lot quicker than it'd been. One of Even's hands was still under his shirt, against his skin, the other was bracing him against the bed and his fingers were in Isak's hair.

“You deserve them,” Even responded with a smile. He kissed him on the lips again, short and sweet, and smiled down at him, and it was slow again, it was just looking and gentle touches.

“You're nice,” Isak said, cupping Even's face in one hand. “Sappy and nice.” And he pulled him down by the back of his neck, into another soft kiss.

He uncovered Isak's body with every piece of clothing he removed, and it was everything he'd dreamed of and more. Shirt first, one sock and then the other and then a kiss to the calf as he crawled back up over him. And with how gorgeous Isak looked, Even couldn't believe Isak was still looking at him with the level of wonder he was.

It was all slow and calm and gentle; Even hadn't thought it'd be like this, he hadn't thought that he'd be able to have this level of self-restraint. He'd been wanting Isak for months and he'd built it up so much in his head and he should've been ripping his clothes off but he was going slower with Isak than he'd gone with anyone since Sonja.

It was easy to want to savor Isak, he was everything Even had ever wanted. Every part of him was new and every sound he made was ethereal. It was quiet, just gasps and whispered curses, and Isak went down on him as he laid back on the bed and watched him. He got to touch Isak's hair, now, got to cling to curls and feel his lips on every part of his body. They talked some, they laughed a bit. Mostly it was panting, it was breathless requests, and Even had already come once when Isak rolled on the condom and he felt spoiled from that alone.

And Isak was just as perfect as he'd always known he'd be. He was just as beautiful and just as sweet. And he was _good,_ which was usually all he needed but now it was only a part of everything else because this was _Isak_ and that alone would be enough.

Even came first for a second time (and he was convinced that this was the best sex he'd ever had with the best orgasms of his life), and he sucked Isak off afterwords and had him finishing in no time, breathing hard with his head thrown back, looking so fucking beautiful. Even could get used to doing that to him every day, making him look like that at any hour. He hoped he would.

“Fuck, Isak,” Even said, because watching him like this, coming down from it all, was the best sight in the world.

“Fuck,” Isak echoed, looking at the ceiling for a second before looking down at Even still between his legs and smiling at him. He looked shy and it was one of the first times Even had seen him with anything less than the utmost confidence. But he still extended his hand and pulled Even in for a hesitant a kiss, a kiss that asked a question, a kiss that Even was just as unsure about reciprocating because he didn't know how to do this, either. He didn't know how to ask to stay; he'd never wanted to before. He didn't know if this meant the same to Isak as it had to him—it'd meant a lot to him, so much he was kind of scared of it. He didn't put himself in a position to be rejected very often, because he was so fucking afraid of it. That fear was what made him destroy his lifetime relationship, it almost lost him all of his friends, because he didn't give people the chances to leave, he left first.

“It's kind of late,” he said, laying next to Isak on the pillow after kissing him for a minute, the condom discarded and the tissues they'd used to clean themselves on the bedside table waiting to be thrown away. Because he needed to know, needed an answer or an idea of what they were going to be after this. This would be Isak telling him to stay or Isak telling him to go and one would suck and the other would be great but either way he'd have an answer.

Isak smiled at him, letting Even trace fingers over his face. “You can stay. So you don't have to walk home.”

Even ran his forefinger over Isak's eyebrow and Isak's eyes closed with that content little smile still on his face. “Are you sure?”

Isak opened his eyes and nodded, looking shy, blush on his cheeks. He was so cute. He looked nervous and Even didn't think he'd ever seen him nervous before. “It's one night, it's my house,” he said. “I'm not going to kick you out, Even.”

Even smiled, thumbed over his bottom lip. “Thanks.”

“It's nothing,” Isak said, looking away with the same blush, same nervous smile. “It's... being polite.”

“Sure,” Even said with a smile, sliding closer, and Isak put a hand on his cheek and kissed him back when Even touched their lips together.

“Just being polite,” Isak said against him, and Even could feel his smile.

“You're really hot,” Even said.

“You said that already.”

“It just got truer, Isak,” Even said, and watched Isak laugh. “Honestly, I never thought I could find you hotter and then _this_ happened and I was so wrong. You're even hotter than you were before.”

“Oh my God, stop,” Isak groaned between laughs, tucking his face into the pillow.

“I'm serious.”

“I know, I wish you weren't.”

Even smiled and ran his hand down Isak's back, because he'd shifted to his stomach with his head turned towards Even, and with the covers over his waist he looked so good. “Are you tired?” he asked.

Isak opened his eyes a bit and hummed as he closed them again. “Aren't you?”

“Yeah of course I am,” Even said. “You almost killed me, Valtersen, I just didn't want to fall asleep while you're still awake, I'd be a terrible... overnight guest.”

“Don't call yourself an overnight guest,” Isak said with a smile. “And you don't have to worry about me, I'm drained.”

“Literally.”

“You're disgusting, I'm going to make you leave,” Isak said, pushing him away and fighting down a smile. Even loved it when he was all loose like this, all playful, because it felt like they'd known each other forever when they were like this together. It felt like they'd been on more than one date that they both recognized as a date, like this was more than just two friends who had slept together—and Even hoped that's what it was to Isak, too, hoped it didn't feel like something between two friends who'd never be anything more. This was a conversation that was needed but that he didn't know how to start. So he just kissed Isak on the lips because he could, and he turned off the light on the bedside table, and he _hoped_ that they were on the same page because he was so afraid of asking about it.

He was laid next to Isak under the covers, hand on his waist as Isak looked back at him in the streetlights coming through the bedroom window.

“What time is your roommate getting home?” Even asked.

“Shit,” Isak answered, shuffling closer in bed. “I don't know, but I know it won't be fun if she sees you. Sometime tomorrow morning, I guess, she's staying at Sana's tonight.”

“Will she give you a hard time for this?” Even asked.

“Yeah, she makes a big deal out of a lot of things.” Isak smiled at him, despite looking a little ill at the prospect. “It's fine.”

Even wasn't offended. He'd do anything to make Isak feel comfortable, and Isak had always seemed like the kind of person who needed to think things through and take things slow. That was okay with Even.

“What else does she make a big deal out of?” Even asked, to make conversation. Because as much as he was tired and spent, he'd never want to stop hearing from Isak, learning about him, and right now saying something would make Isak feel more comfortable so he said what he could to help that cause.

“She's overprotective,” Isak said with a smile. “She was around when my dad left and my mom went to the hospital. She knows it's been... a lot for me. So everything is a big deal, when it comes to me. Everything is an issue.”

“You knew Eva in high school?” Even asked, rubbing his back, because he was curious about his dad's absence and his mom's hospital stay—two things that had been omitted from all the tiny facts he knew about Isak Valtersen—but he wasn't in a position to ask about it, and this was an easy path to follow.

“The summer before my first year,” Isak answered with a nod. “When she started dating my best friend. And then she was around when I moved out and I was living on Eskild's couch, and she let me stay in her spare bedroom when her mom wasn't home because the living room couch was kind of.... I didn't have a lot of space to myself. And... yeah, I just.... Yeah.”

“It's good that you had her, then,” Even said.

“Yeah, she takes care of me,” Isak answered with a smile. “That's why she might freak out when she sees you. She just cares. A _lot_. Like, I've never met anyone who cares about people so much, except maybe Sana's roommate Chris.”

“Well I don't think you should worry,” Even said. He'd make sure it wasn't weird tomorrow when Eva got back. He'd figure it out, it was the least he could do.

“That's kind of what I do,” Isak said.

“Worry?”

“Yeah, worry,” Isak said. “You haven't noticed that? Maybe I shouldn't've pointed it out.”

“What do you worry about?” Even asked, sweeping a hand down Isak's arm and back up, down his back and back up.

“Everything,” Isak said, and it sounded so honest.

“Why?” Even asked quietly.

“Because my family fucked me up,” Isak said. “Because my dad left and my mom was sick and I was alone, I guess.”

Even's hand stilled for a minute. “Sick?” he asked. He met Isak's gaze and forced himself to move his hand again, resting it on the small of his back. “Your mom was sick?” _Please don't mean it. Please don't be what I know it is._

“Schizophrenic,” Isak said, and cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “It was hard to be with her. She lives in a hospital now, my dad pays for it.” He looked back at Even, frozen, and tried to keep going. He was brave, Even had always known that, he'd always known he'd been through more than he let on. “Don't you worry?” he asked, biting his bottom lip like he was scared of the answer. Like Even would say no and call him crazy for being worried.

“I worry,” Even said.

“About everything?”

“About a lot.” He smiled, he forced it. Isak's mother was sick in the way Even was and Isak didn't talk to her anymore. That couldn't bode well for them, could it?

“Why?” Isak asked, because Even had. Because he didn't know what Even was thinking and he didn't know what Even had been through.

“Because I feel like I mess everything up,” he said.

“That's not true,” Isak said softly.

 _I'll tell him tomorrow_ , Even thought, but he didn't think he would. “I cheated on the girl I loved because it wasn't the same kind of love it'd always been.” He didn't want Sonja to dump him and leave him because things changed after the diagnosis, everything changed. It was a different dynamic, it was safer with less spontaneity, and everything was an accusation, from both sides. Anything he did she called a symptom, everything she did he called control. And he knew she was going to leave and he wouldn't blame her for it because she deserved better, she deserved to be happy and they fought so much they weren't happy. He'd done what he did to push her away so that it'd be his fault and his choice and not hers. He cheated because he knew he didn't deserve her and all she'd done for him, and she'd feel guilty for leaving him because he was bipolar and they'd been together for so desperately long. But he couldn't tell Isak this. Isak had an ill mother, Isak didn't know he'd just slept with an ill friend.

“I guess we're kind of the same, then,” Isak said, but something felt different. Something felt like it needed to happen. _I'll tell him tomorrow_. He just wanted one more night without fearing rejection.

“Are you tired?” Even asked.

“You already asked me that,” Isak said, smiling again.

“I want you to sleep if you're tired. I'm tired, too.”

“Okay,” Isak said, closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Even.”

“Night, Isak.”

He was worried and he was scared but he was happy, still, and this felt manageable. It felt like something he could get through. Because maybe Isak would understand, Even didn't know everything, he didn't know the whole story. He hadn't asked questions and he was afraid to but maybe he would and maybe he'd find out it wasn't a big deal and it was nothing to have been worried about. It didn't matter right now, nothing mattered right now except the fact that Isak was asleep beside him and he was so handsome in the dim lights. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

So he closed his eyes and breathed deeply and fell asleep with his hand on Isak's waist like he'd started to think he'd never get to do.

  
+

Even woke up first on Sunday, early in the morning. The apartment was silent, the whole world felt silent. The sun was barely up and Isak was asleep beside him, on his side with one of Even's arms around his waist. They were inches away from spooning but it was still the most intimate way he'd slept with someone else in a long time. It was the first time he'd ever slept over with someone who wasn't Sonja.

Isak's hair was curly and splayed out on the pillow, his shoulders curled up and the side of his face pressed into the pillowcase. The blanket was pulled up to his chest and their legs were tangled together under the covers but their bodies were separated, joined only at the hand Even had on Isak's waist and their crossed ankles.

Even grabbed his phone from the table beside him, taking his hand from the warmth of Isak's skin to check his messages with the last ten percent of his phone battery. Ignoring the group chat for Yousef's number, he read, _No matter how much fun you're having tonight remember you have therapy at ten tomorrow._ He managed to check the time right as his phone shut itself down, and it was barely seven.

He looked at Isak's sleeping form, the rise and fall of his shoulders with his soft, slow breaths. And he needed to leave soon but waking up someone as sweet and sleepy as Isak would be a crime. And even more than that, in the back of his mind he knew he needed to tell Isak about his bipolar, that it was the right thing to do if he wanted anything to do with him in the future, but he didn't want to have to do it today, this morning, right now. He didn't want to ruin what had happened so soon after it'd happened. He was scared and he wanted to keep it in the future so he'd leave now and deal with it later, like he'd told himself last night, too. Later, later, always later. Right now was too hard.

He was taking the quickest and easiest way out, like he always did. He was making the decision that would save him pain now, but tended to cause more in the future. He didn't want to think like that, though.

So he watched Isak for a minute more, and then he forced himself out of bed and onto the cold bedroom floor where his clothes had been discarded the night before. He pulled on his underwear and his jeans, shuffled around to find the shirt that Isak had flung across the room, tried to make as little noise as possible. And then he found an open notebook that Isak had on his desk, flipped to a clean page that didn't have biology notes all over them in possibly the most unorganized form of note taking Even had ever seen, and wrote a note in blue ballpoint pen.

_Isak—_

_Didn't want to leave you but I have an appointment to keep. Didn't want to wake you. And this way your roommate won't have to freak out._

_I had fun last night, I hope I can see you again. Text me <3_

— _Even_

_P.S. You look hot when you sleep, too._

This wasn't the right way to do this, he knew that even as he drew a little sleeping Isak at the bottom of the page and folded it in half. He knew he was being cowardly but if he could put off a conversation that he was afraid of having then he was going to do that. He just got Isak, he couldn't lose him so soon.

So he set the note on the pillow he'd slept on and watched the ceiling fan shake the paper. He leaned down and kissed Isak once on the cheek, and then he stood next to him and watched him tuck himself deeper under the covers, sighing in his sleep.

He'd tell him soon. He would.

Right now he left the room quietly and pulled the door shut behind him, tiptoeing down the hall in case Eva had returned in the nighttime instead of staying at Sana's place. But her bedroom door was open like it'd been the night before and it was empty of her like it'd been the night before. So he could save Isak from that, too, and maybe that would make up for the abrupt and hardly-explained exit, at least a little bit.

He put on his shoes and jacket at the door, and left quietly. And even though he was scared he was still happy. Because he knew Isak, he knew so much about him, and deep down maybe he knew that Isak wouldn't judge him for a mind he didn't choose. Maybe he knew that Isak wasn't shallow and had more behind his strained familial relationships than mental illness. And even though rational thought rarely outweighed fear, the fear didn't keep him from his happiness. He was still happy that he'd been with Isak, had kissed him and talked to him and had sex with him and slept with him. He felt happy and lucky and he didn't want anything to ruin that, even the fear.

It was cold outside but it was a short walk to the tram stop, and a short wait for the 7:20 tram. A short ride to his house during which a Frank Ocean song that they'd gotten halfway through the night before played on repeat in his head. And he kept smiling, too, remembering Isak, remembering everything. He'd made Isak laugh last night like he'd made Isak come, he'd touched him and been touched back, he'd talked to him about so many things and he felt _close_ to him in a way he rarely felt close to anyone new.

The house was quiet when he unlocked the door and walked in, but all the keys were in the bowl by the door so everyone was home. Since they'd gone to the party last night and probably stayed until the early hours of the morning it was sure to be a quiet Sunday in the Eriksen house.

So he started the coffee pot in the kitchen, plugged his phone into the outlet over the kitchen counter. He put food in the cat bowls and tried to pet Juniper, who actually let him for a relatively long time before scratching him and jumping onto the coffee table to knock off the empty drinking glass that'd been there for three weeks. He picked it up and put it back on the coffee table instead of in the sink and went to take a shower as the coffee brewed. He liked it when the house was quiet in the mornings, his house was never quiet. He liked it when he got to take long showers because there were only two showers and there were a lot of passive aggressive knocks on the door after the water had been running for more than ten minutes, but when everyone else was asleep and half of them were hungover he got to stand under the warm water for longer than he ever had, so that by the time he got out in a plume of white steam he felt refreshed despite the late night he'd had, one that would usually keep him in bed until fifteen minutes before his scheduled appointment.

Once he'd changed in his bedroom—nice clean clothes and a hand run through wet hair—he went to collect his coffee from the kitchen and saw Elias half-dressed in socks and a hoodie over his boxers, nursing a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Hey,” he croaked, and then closed his eyes against the sound of his own voice.

“Fun night?” Even asked, moving past him to grab a mug from the cabinet.

“Shit, I could ask the same of you,” Elias said, watching him pour. “You didn't answer our texts, we thought you were dead.”

“Yeah, you look really worried,” Even said, and Elias shrugged.

“He could be a murderer. There's always something wrong with the cute ones.”

“He's known your sister since high school,” Even said, taking the milk out of the fridge and a spoon from the drawer underneath the microwave.

“Murderers go to high school, too.” Elias took a long sip with his eyes closed but the coffee didn't seem to be reviving him much. “How was the sex?”

Even didn't look at him as he poured milk and sugar into his coffee cup, stirring it to the perfect color and then going about putting everything away again.

“That good?” Elias asked, and Even had known him since his first year of high school and he still blushed at that. “Did he make you breakfast?”

Even shook his head, picked up his coffee cup, and leaned back against the counter to actually speak to him. “I left before he was awake.”

That perked Elias up more than the coffee could, and he looked at Even first with wide eyes and then with a furrowed brow. “What the fuck, dude? You've been talking about him nonstop for months and then you turn him into a one-night stand?”

“He's not a one-night stand!” Even exclaimed. “I have therapy, I had to go, I didn't want to wake him up.” And then, weakly, “I left him a note.”

“You have plenty of time before therapy,” Elias said. “You run away from everything good, Even, what's the problem this time?”

Even looked into his coffee cup and stirred the spoon around in it until the sound of another pair of feet reached his ears and he moved to the side to allow Mutta to pour a cup of coffee.

“Even ditched that boy he's obsessed with,” Elias said to him, and Mutta looked up at Elias with tired eyes, processed his words, and then turned on Even, both of them standing as a sleep-deprived wall of disappointment with warm coffee in their palms.

“You _ditched_ him?” Mutta asked.

“I didn't _ditch_ him, that's dramatic,” Even said.

“He left before he was awake this morning because he has therapy in like an hour and a half,” Elias said, and Even leveled him with a glare as Mutta said, “What the fuck, man?”

“It would've been a shit move of me to wake him up, wouldn't it?” Even asked. “I left him a note.”

“What'd the note say?” Mutta asked.

“Just that I had to go and I wanted to stay and I want to see him again,” Even said, looking between the two of them exchanging a look and a thousand words within it. “I told him to text me, and he _will_ , I know he will. I can't text him first _again_ , that's all I ever do, I look desperate.”

“You _are_ desperate,” Elias said.

“Yeah but _he_ doesn't need to know that.”

“He definitely already knows that,” Mutta said.

“He one-hundred percent already knows that,” Elias agreed. “But let him choose, that's good. You don't want to suffocate him. I can see your reasoning behind it. Still think you should have waited until he'd woken up.”

“It's Sunday and we were up until like two in the morning, he probably wouldn't have woken up before nine anyways,” Even said. “I left a note. He'll text me if he wants to see me again.” God, he hoped Isak wanted to see him again.

“And you'll be okay if he doesn't text you?” Elias asked dubiously, carefully. “He's not known to stick around with the guys he sleeps with, Even, and he's a nice guy but I don't want him to disappoint you.”

Even swallowed. He knew this. “He didn't promise me anything,” he said, hating that it came from his lips. Hating that it had to.

Mutta and Elias watched him for a moment, before Mutta clearly tried to lift the mood as he said, “But, hey, Yousef and Sana held hands all night at the party, I wonder if they're official, now.”

“They fucking better be,” Elias said. “I'm tired of wondering if he's gonna pull some shit and I'll have to kick his ass.”

“You wouldn't kick Yousef's ass,” Mutta said.

“I'd try my best,” Elias said. “They've been doing this shit since high school and I remember when he kissed Noora I wanted to kill him. They better be fucking dating now, Sana doesn't deserve to have to keep waiting.”

“Sana can take care of herself better than you can,” Mutta said.

Even watched them and forced a smile as he took a sip of coffee, appreciative of the distraction that only half took his mind off of this brand new fear he'd failed to consider last night. Why would Isak stick around with him when he didn't stick around with others? Isak was nice, he was so nice, and no one had ever called him a player like they did to Even because it wasn't such a widespread thing, the fact that Isak liked to leave. But his friends knew, and Even's friends knew Isak's friends and so they _would_ have this information, and Even had had that information in the form of a warning from Sana when he first asked about her cute friend with the blonde hair. “He's not really focused on his love life right now, Even,” she'd said. “Do whatever you want but don't expect a lot from him.” He'd pushed all of those thoughts behind his desire and now he was facing them. Because he'd left and they hadn't talked, and he'd thought he was saving himself from a conversation he wasn't ready to have but in doing that they were lacking a definition to whatever had just happened last night.

He felt like shit, now. He kind of wished they hadn't slept together, now. Isak had offered to go to McDonald's and talk and be _friends_ , but Even had been impatient and moved them past friendship when he followed him up to his bedroom. He should have waited. He should have given them more time.

“Do you want a ride to therapy?” Elias asked, turning to him. “I can grab the keys to Yousef's car, or Adam's.”

“You look like you'd fall asleep at the wheel without question,” Even said. He wanted to be alone. He needed to fucking think because he hadn't taken the time to do it before.

“Well you can't drive yourself, your license is expired.”

Even looked at his watch and put his mug in the sink. “I'll just take the tram. It's fine.”

“It's a thirty minute tram ride,” Mutta said, bending down and picking up Elaine against her will while on her way to the food bowl, holding her against his chest as she squirmed.

“I've got time,” Even said. “I'll go now, be home in a few hours.” He picked up his keys from the bowl they used to hold them.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Elias asked. “I didn't mean to freak you out, dude.”

“I just hadn't thought about it,” Even said, turning to face them again. “I feel like an idiot because I hadn't thought about it.”

“It could be nothing, man,” Mutta said. “Just because he did it with other people doesn't mean he'll do it to you. You do the same thing, but you want to be with him, right?” Even nodded hesitantly upon realizing that wasn't a rhetorical question. “So don't jump to conclusions, okay? You won't know anything until he texts you.”

“ _If_ he texts me,” Even said.

“And if he doesn't then you have your answer and you can move on,” Elias said. “Either way, it's chill. You'll be chill.”

At least it'd be an answer. It wouldn't be the answer he wanted, but at least it'd be something.

Even just nodded and opened the door, feeling a little sick as he stepped outside. Still, he played Frank Ocean on Spotify, got through half of the album when he stepped off the tram in front of his psychologist's office. Because he wanted to stop thinking about it but it was all there was to think about.

He checked his half-charged phone in the waiting room and the only notification was from his mom. He didn't think Isak was going to text him and it sucked to know that. Because Isak was the first person since he was fifteen years old that he _liked_ , that he _wanted._ He was stupid to assume he'd be wanted back.

They should have just stayed friends. Sex ruined everything.

And he tried not to tell himself that this was what he deserved, because he'd been telling himself that for over a year and he hated to hate himself. But maybe Isak deserved better than someone who ruined his only lasting relationship through adultery. Maybe Isak deserved someone who had a mind that was easy to control, because his mother hadn't and Isak said that it'd fucked him up. And so maybe this was for the best. Maybe this was what was meant to happen; a fun night to get it out of their systems, and then they'd move on from the lingering glances and the sweet talk at midnight. Maybe this was right.

If Isak didn't text him, Even wouldn't push it. Isak was nice, he wouldn't want to turn him down in any more obvious of a way than not texting back. And it would _crush_ him, but Even would let it happen.

Isak didn't promise him anything, and that's what he told himself again and again, but it didn't hurt any less.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to thank everyone for the kudos and comments that i've been getting, and all the lovely support. my ask box is closed right now and comment moderation is on, but i'll open the ask box in a few days, hopefully :) for now i'm not posting any of your sweet asks sending me love, even though i absolutely love reading them. but any questions or comments on the fic specifically i'll post, and private asks i'll ask privately :) comments on the chapter are so appreciated, thank you for all ya'll have done for me <3 feel free to talk to me at any time, my tumblr is @supermansplaining (and there's some visibility settings that i changed that are supposed to make it harder to find the blog, i'm sorry if it's difficult). love you all <3


	5. NWA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi babes! sorry for the long wait, as always. writer's block only left two days ago so I wrote about 9k of this then. it's only been read over once by me because i didn't want to subject joelle to this 13 page monster and i wanted it out there for ya'll sooner rather than later since you've been so patient :)  
> enjoy <3 love ya'll <3

**ISAK**

He woke up slowly, tangled up in his duvet with his arm under his head. The covers were heavy and warm over him, the air was cold from the window still open from smoking last night. Smoking last night with Even.

But there wasn't another body in the bed, Isak could tell without opening his eyes. It only hit him after a few seconds that there was supposed to be.

He opened his eyes and found the blanket hoarded against his body, the bed beside him empty. His phone had messages from Jonas and Eskild but none from Even. And he felt stupid for feeling so _disappointed_ , he felt stupid for the drop of his heart as he rose up on one elbow to look around the room just make sure.

Even had left, and Isak hadn't thought he would. And that was no one's fault but his own.

He sat up in bed, trying to slow his heartbeat, lift it back up in his chest. Why did it feel like he was drowning?

“Isak?” Eva called, and knocked on his door rapidly. He felt like he couldn't breathe right but when she came in he tried not to let it show.

“Hey,” Eva said, leaning on the doorframe with one hand on the knob. “I just got off work, did you just wake up?”

He swallowed and nodded and she furrowed her brow. “You okay?” she asked.

He nodded again, realized that wouldn't be enough, and let out a hoarse, “Yeah, fine.”

“Did you have fun at the party?” she asked. “I didn't get to see you there, I was a little wasted.”

“Yeah, it was fine,” he said, clearing his throat and pulling the blanket further up his bare chest. He didn't want to think about it. He'd been so happy last night, it was hard to believe he'd been so happy when he felt used and unimportant now. He felt his heart still thudding too quickly, his mind focused over and over on the single fact that he was left and nothing else.

“Jonas said you went with Even Bech Næsheim,” she said with a smile, and his heart dropped more. God, he was stupid. “How was that?”

“It was okay,” Isak said quietly, and, yeah, it had been, it'd been more than okay, it'd been great. Having Even in his bed was so much different than he'd have ever thought it'd be, but it was so much better. Better because he felt special and hot and comfortable, but maybe that was an act Even saved for everyone. Maybe that was the way he wanted them to feel, special so they'd want him more. It'd worked.

“It's already noon,” Eva said, still standing in the doorway but this time with a different look on her face. That look that said she knew more than he was telling her, a look that told him he could tell her but she wouldn't ask yet. “Are you going to do anything today?”

“Just some homework,” he said, and their conversations were only ever this stilted when he was closed up and scared, and he hadn't felt like this since high school and he hated that it just took one boy's rejection to make him feel like he was nothing all over again.

“I was going to let Vilde stay the night tonight,” Eva said slowly, looking around the room as if for evidence he wasn't presenting her with. “Would that be... okay?”

She didn't usually ask and that's how he knew for sure that she knew. She had to have known. He'd made out with Even in front of a quarter of the school and Eva knew everyone. Someone would have said something, and if someone said something then Eva would've heard it.

But he didn't want to talk about it, and she wouldn't make him, so he just said, “That's fine. I'll go to Jonas's.” But he didn't want to talk about it to Jonas, either, not yet. “Or... or Eskild's, probably.”

“Do you need anything?” she asked gently. “I brought home some breakfast from my morning shift, I can warm it up for you.”

“I'm fine,” he said, and it felt like the millionth time he'd uttered those words and each time it was a lie. He wasn't fine, he hadn't even considered having to deal with Even leaving and now he knew he should have. He shouldn't trust so goddamn easily, when had that ever worked in his favor before? “I'm gonna take a shower, I'll be out of here before Vilde gets here.”

“You don't have to leave so soon--”

“It's okay, Eskild's been bugging me to come home. He'll be happy to see me, I might stay there a few days. Tell Vilde she can stay however long she wants.”

“Isak--”

“It's fine, Eva.”

She gave him another long look before closing the door and retreating down the hall again.

Isak laid back down against the pillows and took his phone in hand as if he could've missed something. And instead of gravitating towards Even's contact like he'd tended to do these last few days, he avoided it altogether and tapped on Eskild's name. If Even didn't want him, he wasn't going to be a desperate hookup chasing after him. He wasn't that person, he never wanted to be. He hated that he was even disappointed right now; he hadn't had any expectations until two days before and now they were all broken. He'd protected himself from that before. There was no protection anymore.

There was a string of mostly one-sided conversation from Eskild's texts, asking him about school and about boys and about when he was coming home to visit again, that the door was always open. He skimmed the last texts Eskild had sent, a story about sex that ended with the other man hitting his head on the wall and passing out before they could finish anything. It made Isak smile a little bit. Eskild was no different than he'd ever been; in the disrupted life Isak had lived, a life of spare bedrooms and living room couches and leaving and returning family members, Eskild was a constant and so was their apartment. It'd been crowded and where a lot of bad memories followed him home, but it was always there, always the same.

_Can I stay at yours tonight? Eva needs the bedroom._

The response was immediate and Isak felt bad about staying away for so long. Visiting Eskild at the kollektiv was what he did instead of going home to see his parents, and it'd been a month since they did anything but text each other, and even that was a pixelated Facetime call instead of a face-to-face interaction.

_Of course baby gay come whenever you want I can't wait to see you!_

He wanted to talk to Eskild, he wanted to tell him everything. He wanted someone to know that he felt like shit because he wasn't good at talking about it. But he didn't think he could say it, could admit to his own stupidity and high hopes. He was smarter than this now, he'd made sure of it. It'd been a long time since he'd felt brokenhearted and it'd never been at the hands of a boy before, it'd been because of his parents and his sexuality and his own insecurities. He didn't want to go back to being that scared little kid; he'd been that kid for so long. And now this _boy_ he hadn't let himself like until three days ago had left him like he left _everyone_ and Isak was disappointed. He'd expected more than he should have, he'd thought he was different. And it fucking _hurt_ but it was his own fault. Even had never said anything about them, he'd never made guarantees. They hadn't talked about it and that wasn't Even's fault because Even didn't want this.

He didn't and it hurt a lot more than Isak ever could've thought it would.

He got into the shower and scrubbed at his skin with Eva's floral body wash as if that could erase anything that'd happened the night before. And when he changed into clean clothes and threw the ones from the night before in a laundry basket so he wouldn't have to look at them, his phone was lit up with texts from everybody but the person he wanted to hear from.

Upon opening the first text from Magnus in the groupchat, his heart sank all over again. Isak didn't think it was possible to feel worse than he already had. _You fucked Even Bech Næsheim??? Brooooooo!!_

If Eva knew, everyone knew. Because, drunk and without boundaries, Eva would have spread any information she'd received from someone else to all of her friends, and Vilde shared everything with Magnus and if Magnus hadn't told Jonas and Mahdi before, it was in the groupchat, now. He'd wanted to avoid this for as long as he could, but the longer he ignored the text the bigger a deal it would become.

He stared at the screen and decided he didn't care. Anything was better than dealing with it right now, and being reminded so soon. And besides, maybe Even was still going to text him; there was _time_ , wasn't there? It wasn't a large hope, he wasn't expecting it, but it was a hope nonetheless.

He packed his backpack with his school books and then shoved some clothes from his dresser alongside them. He just wanted to be somewhere else; he couldn't believe he took someone back to his house, he'd never done that and he felt ridiculous for thinking that Even was different. That Even could think _he_ was different. Now he couldn't look around the room without feeling the mistakes he'd made in his bones.

He felt used like he had before. He felt sad in a way he hadn't felt since high school—he didn't like the feeling, he didn't like feeling helpless and powerless all over again. He'd been young then, he'd grown since then, and he didn't like being placed back in that mindset. He'd hated himself then, and he never wanted to feel that way again. But here he was, crushed from a boy he'd known less than a year and hadn't acknowledged affection for until only days before.

He _had_ liked Even, though, he'd always liked Even, from the moment they met at that start-of-the-year party he'd liked Even. But he hadn't _wanted_ to like Even because Even was the kind of guy who broke hearts and let people down, that's what everyone said. And it'd taken no time at all for him to stop believing that and believe Even instead, believe the face he showed Isak that he probably showed everyone he wanted to fuck. Maybe they really had been friends and maybe it was Isak who ruined that by inviting him home, and that didn't matter because they certainly couldn't be friends now. Isak had thought it was real.

Eva was in the living room painting her toenails red with Amadeus on the couch beside her, and she looked up when he walked out with his backpack stuffed full. “You're leaving now?”

“I'm gonna go to the library,” he said.

“Isak, you don't have to go,” she said.

“I need to get some stuff done.”

“You don't want to talk?”

“I'll text you when I'm planning on coming back, but Vilde's welcome to my room for as long as she wants.” He pulled on his shoes and grabbed a jacket in his arms because he couldn't stay here long enough to put it on. He felt like crying and he hated that he did. He wasn't going to talk about it, not to Eva or the boys or Eskild or anyone. He couldn't admit to that kind of stupidity, and more than that he couldn't relive the emotional vulnerability he'd shown to Even with everyone else. He wasn't like that, he'd never wanted to be like that. Even in high school, when he was young and exposed in the worst way, he'd dealt with it himself. Jonas had wanted to help, and Eskild and Eva, and it was only after endless pushing that he let them. Only enough to let Jonas comfort him when his dad left, to let Eskild give him a place on his couch when he left his mom and Eva to give him a place in her guest room when the kollektiv got too crowded. Enough to let Eskild teach him how important saying no could be. Most things he just kept inside and tried to handle internally, and he would for this, too.

Of course he'd have to tell them sometime; they knew he'd hooked up with Even and he couldn't just pretend that it hadn't happened and never address it again. They'd have to find out it was a one-night stand; Isak would just have to act like they were on the same page, instead of the fact that he'd been left in the morning when he'd fallen asleep with the highest hopes he'd had in a long time.

Had Even waited until the morning to leave, or had it only been five minutes after Isak fell asleep?

The library was deserted on the ground floor and he found himself a cubbyhole in the corner with his books spread in front of him, completely unable to focus. Usually schoolwork enveloped him and took his mind off of everything but the work in front of him, and he hated that he was so caught up on what'd happened with Even that he couldn't focus on anything other than that pain.

He thought about real problems, genuine problems, and felt like shit about himself for being upset over something so trivial. It was just a boy, just an unrequited crush. But it was more than that, too, because Isak was tired of not letting himself have what he wanted. He was tired of letting things happen to him.

After thirty minutes and a large cup of coffee, he managed to get lost in the work. Managed to think about the biology lab report due Tuesday and the psychology paper due Thursday, managed to methodically cross completed work off in his planner until there was nothing else to mark and he looked up to find himself five hours older with dusk falling against the library windows.

Eskild was happy to see him, he always was. He cared so much, so deeply and consumingly, and Isak felt like he'd never shown the appreciation he felt so wholly. He was shit at showing his emotions, he had been ever since his mom got sick, even worse after his dad left. It was harder for people to hurt you when you just deny any investment in the world around you. It was harder to feel the pain when he didn't let himself acknowledge what he felt to cause it.

“You can sleep in my bed,” Eskild said, ushering him through the apartment as if Isak hadn't spent years navigating it himself. “I'll take the couch.”

“Eskild, no,” Isak said, dropping his backpack at the coffee table in the living room and sitting down on the couch he spent most of high school sleeping on. “The couch is great, I always sleep on the couch. Keep your room.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” Eskild said, pouting a little as he hovered in the doorway to the kitchen. “You never come home unless you're sad, and when you're sad I want to make you happier.”

“I don't only come home when I'm sad,” Isak said.

“You also come home when you want a drink and need to be watched,” Eskild amended. “But you usually want to drink when you're sad. I'm not gonna ask you what it is.” He sat next to Isak on the couch and put his arm around him, and it only took a second for Isak to let himself relax into the embrace. As many people who'd left in his lifetime, he never feared that Eskild would.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” Eskild told him, rubbing down his arm. “You can even move back in. I miss you. Linn misses you.”

“There's too many people,” Isak said, but this was looking more and more like his only option. He couldn't keep up with these temporary living arrangements for much longer, not with midterms and insomnia and every emotional instability spiraling around him now. Vilde needed his room and Eva deserved to live with her best friend, not some friend of an ex-boyfriend who'd fucked her over and still came running to her for comfort because he didn't have a mother to run to anymore.

“Just keep it as an option, baby gay,” Eskild said, kissing his cheek and standing up with a huff of exertion. “I'm running to the grocery store, anything you need?”

“No, that's okay,” Isak said, but he knew Eskild would buy him his favorite potato chips and some frozen burritos anyways, because Eskild always did. Because Eskild loved him when he didn't love himself, just like Jonas and Magnus and Mahdi, just like family was supposed to, just like his version of family always had.

When Eskild had disappeared through the front door and the apartment was empty again, he spread the sheets from the linen closet on the couch and set up the quilt and pillows. When he sat back down and checked his phone for the first time in hours there were about ten million texts in the group chat and from Eva's friends, who never texted him unless it was Sana wanting to study chemistry or Chris and Vilde wanting an inside scoop that Isak rarely had.

So many questions about Even, about what had happened that night because everyone saw them making out against the house party's living room wall. Jonas texted him separately asking if he was okay because he hadn't heard from him all day, because no one had, and then he texted him again and said that he'd talked to Eva and he hoped he'd have fun at Eskild's. Told him to call later because they had a lot to discuss. Added a semicolon winky face that made Isak feel hot shame at what he and Even had done all over again. He didn't care that he'd slept with Even, he cared that that's all it was when it felt like more. He cared that he'd been used, that he'd let his guard down, that he'd believed someone's good intentions like he fucking always did and then got fucked over in the end because he trusted too easily. He was tired of being let down.

 _I'm fine_ , he wrote back to Jonas, phone on a dangerously low battery percentage. _Can't talk now, studying for midterms. Don't want to talk about Even._

Jonas's response was immediate and as wonderfully understanding as he always was. _We don't have to talk about anything you don't want. Call me soon I'm worried <3_

 _Will do_ , he texted back, even though he had no intentions to call Jonas. Jonas would see through him in no time at all and he wasn't in the mood to be weak right now. It was enough to know it himself, to feel the shame he'd inflicted on himself with no other witnesses. Having Jonas there would only make it worse, because Jonas didn't let him ignore things, Jonas didn't let him forget. Because Jonas didn't want him to get hurt again like Isak kept letting happen, over and over again. Isak kept getting hurt and never learned from it more that what it took to stop drinking when he was eighteen. He was clinical but he was _trusting_ and that opened the gate to every bad guy and hurtful situation to come across him and mess him up entirely.

Linn came home an hour after Eskild left, stopped to stare at Isak from the doorway like he wasn't supposed to be there, and then said, “Hey.”

Isak nodded his greeting. “Were you at work?” he asked.

“I brought a salad,” she said in answer, holding up a takeout container. “You want it?”

“That's okay.”

“I know I won't eat it,” Linn said.

“Neither will I, salad's fucking gross.”

“Salad's so fucking gross, man,” she agreed, and Isak smiled. He didn't think he'd smiled today. “I'll leave it for Noora, she likes that shit. Good to have you home, kid, did something happen at school?”

He didn't ask why everyone thought he only came home when he was sad; it was true, he knew it was true. He'd come home at Christmastime because that was the anniversary of when his father left one year and his mother got admitted the next. He'd come home halfway through his first semester and stayed for two weeks because studying for midterms while dealing with his insomnia was getting impossible, and he didn't want to put all of that pressure to be taken care of on Eva. The kollektiv was his safe space, it was where he went for the comfort he hadn't received from his home since he was a child. It was full of people who'd taken care of him in his worst moments. Sometimes he was sick to death of feeling taken care of, sometimes it made him feel like a useless kid who was nothing more than a burden. But sometimes he needed it. Needed this. He'd gone most of his life without feeling safe. It was nice to be able to take advantage of this comfort now, when he needed it.

“Yeah, it sucked,” he said quietly, with a sad smile, and Linn just smiled sadly back. “But, I don't know. It's okay, I think. It'll be fine. I've been through worse, right?”

“Want to watch a movie and fall asleep?” Linn asked, taking a seat on the other couch, because his roommates always knew what he needed. Sometimes it was Eskild, who knew how to calm him down and make him talk and comfort him in all the familial ways he'd never known outside of Jonas. Sometimes it was Noora, and she'd feed him and wash his clothes and do homework with him silently at the kitchen table. And sometimes it was Linn, calm and chill Linn, Linn who never caused problems at home but who had a million non-sequiturs and old stories that one would never expect. She would sit with Isak for hours without saying a word, they'd spend their Saturday nights laying in the living room and watching entire seasons of _American Horror Story_ and _Parks and Recreation_ and _Bloodline_.

“Sounds good,” he said, and smiled as Linn turned on Netflix.

There were worse things in life then getting left by a boy he hardly knew, but it was made harder when getting left this time felt like the millionth time in his life. He was tired. He was tired of feeling like it was only logical that he couldn't keep a stable life with stable presence. It was only logical that he be left, it's all he ever was.

When Linn settled on an episode halfway through the fourth season of _The Office_ , he let himself sink back in the couch, pull a knit throw over his waist, and forget for a while.

  
+

Monday came too quickly and Isak wasn't ready to step back onto campus. He wasn't ready to leave the safety of the home Eskild had created for him all over again. He wasn't ready to face the rumors still circulating according to the texts he'd never stopped receiving. He was still hurt, he still felt used, but when he was alone in his knowledge then it wasn't so bad. It wasn't so public. He hated being in the spotlight, it'd happened when he was pushed out of the closet by a near-stranger and he never wanted to experience that again. Dealing with hardships was difficult enough without everyone constantly bringing up the hardships and getting involved and acting like they were entitled to information that was destroying him inside.

But he forced himself to get up anyways. Even's classes were in the afternoons, his only morning class was psychology on Tuesdays and Thursdays. If Isak just avoided the coffee shop where he usually ran into Even, and then rushed right to the library after his classes, and then straight back home, then he was unlikely to have to face the boy who'd left him and hurt him and caused him restless sleeplessness on the kollektiv's living room couch, like he was fucking seventeen and newly homeless all over again. Fuck Even for making him feel that way. Fuck Even for making him feel weak and helpless in a way he hadn't in years. Not to this extent, at least.

He'd responded to the group chat once they'd moved off the topic of Even, mostly due to Jonas urging the conversation in a different direction after Isak told him he didn't want to discuss the Saturday night situation. When Magnus and Mahdi started asking again, he stopped responding. They were probably on the way to getting the picture. He didn't want to run into any of them, either, or any of the girls. Vilde didn't think before she spoke and wouldn't let something drop unless the need to do so was expressed with no room for contemplation. Chris would treat it like a joke without knowing she shouldn't, and Eva would want to help so she wouldn't leave it alone. She liked to pick at wounds to try to heal them faster. She didn't understand that a little time worked better. Sana... Sana would just _know_ , he feared, with one goddamn look at him, and if she hadn't heard it from Eva or seen it herself, she'd have heard it from her brother or his friends or Even himself, or any of the thousands of students on campus who probably already knew that Even Bech Næsheim fucked Isak Valtersen because they always knew when Even Bech Næsheim fucked anybody.

He was up before anyone else in the apartment and he struggled with the coffeemaker for ten minutes before getting it turned on and working. He took a shower while he waited for the coffee to brew, got dressed in the steamed-up bathroom, and opened Snapchats from Magnus that he'd been neglecting since two nights prior. Vilde and Magnus smiling with their cheeks pressed together, Vilde kissing his cheek with a bottle of wine in one hand. Why he always sent these to Isak, he didn't know, but all it really told him was that Magnus thought about him and cared about him, which he did, better than anyone. He sent a red heart back.

He filled up a to-go cup with coffee, mixed in white sugar, and screwed the top on before wrestling himself into a coat and his backpack and walking out the door an hour before his class was supposed to start. He'd never been great with an idle mind and extra time.

And he didn't see Even. He listened to NWA from the walk to the tram to the walk to the library to the walk to class, because it made him feel brave and tough and like he could fucking handle this. He felt like it might be his soundtrack for the next few days, but he didn't see Even and he didn't _worry_ about seeing Even so much. He didn't look for him as much as he feared he might, he didn't wait for stares and whispers. He listened to NWA and did his work and blocked everything else out, and when he got back to the kollektiv and it was still light outside and the house was quiet, he laced up his running shoes and left for another few hours, until all he could think about was the slap of the soles of his shoes on the sidewalk and the timed in and out of his breathing and the different phyla of plants because he had a biology test coming up and constant studying for that was the best method of pushing all other thoughts out.

Dinner was ready when he got home, and everyone was in the living room, even Linn, with their dirty dishes in the sink. They turned to look at him when the door slammed behind him, and he was aware that he was sweaty and smelly and fucking disgusting but it didn't matter because on that run he had realized that he was _mad_ , not sad. He was fucking _livid._ Even hadn't promised him shit but he hadn't _had_ to. Because Isak fucking deserved better and _fuck_ Even for not seeing that, for making Isak think he was something when he really meant nothing. Fuck Even for chopping back all the progress he'd made since high school, since everything terrible had happened that Isak had _told_ him about, that Even fucking _knew_ about because Isak was trusting and he was invested and he was so fucking stupid.

“Everything alright?” Eskild asked hesitantly, like he knew the answer already, like it was written all over his face. It probably was. It was in the way he stood, the way he was holding himself, the way his muscles were rigid when they should be loose and limber after a miles-long run. It was in his head, it wasn't giving his brain a rest. Instead of thinking of his pace and his breath and phylum fucking Monilophyta he was berating himself with anger at someone other than himself. He didn't think he'd ever been at that place before. He didn't think he'd ever blamed the world instead of his own actions. It was a freeing feeling.

“Fuck boys,” he said in answer, and got an easy cheer and a beer can toast in return. Noora settled back with a smile and he knew she knew, she'd have to know, she was Eva's babysitter on drunken party nights and Isak had made out with Even on a drunken party night. If Eva had heard, then Noora had heard, but Noora hadn't said a word to him or anyone else. Noora cared so much. Noora loved so largely.

“That's a great attitude to have,” Eskild said. Isak could tell he was on his way to drunk with one look at him.

Linn had the remote in hand and was navigating around the Roku menu, _Desperate Housewives_ reruns forgotten with Isak's entrance. “Let's watch _Kill Bill_ to immortalize that attitude,” she said, opening Netflix, and Isak still felt angry and used and he knew it'd fade back to sadness at some point but he still smiled now.

Eskild sat forward suddenly and clapped his hands loudly, startling everyone and drawing unbridled attention as he was prone to do. “Family movie night! We can have family movie nights again! Tonight's theme is 'fuck boys!'” He was talking too loud and Isak guessed that the majority of the empty beer cans on the coffee table had belonged to Eskild before they were emptied. Not that Eskild wouldn't emphatically scream _fuck boys_ at any given level of sobriety, should the situation warrant it in the least. Any opportunity to shriek anything was pounced upon immediately by Eskild, drunkenness rarely affected it.

“That's all fine and good,” Noora said, legs crossed under her on the couch next to Eskild, “but can Isak take a shower first? I can smell him from here.”

“No time for that,” Eskild said, shaking his head as Linn found the title on the television.

“There's definitely time,” Noora said. She turned to Isak still standing in the front entrance and said, “Go shower, Isak, we'll make popcorn. You smell really bad.”

“Thanks, Noora,” he said, but turned to the hallway anyways. From behind him there was a three-part chorus of, “Fuck boys,” in varying levels of enthusiasm, and he smiled as he made his way to the bathroom crowded with the often-shared toiletries of four people. It was so much like high school but Isak had forgotten how good it sometimes was. How good it _usually_ was, in this apartment with these people, on family movie nights and family dinners and family game nights that he'd never had with his real family, with his mother and his father, in his old house with all the curtains drawn tight to keep the daylight out. Here the windows were open long into the winter and he could hear the rush of the night outside, here he had the love and attention and support he'd never known before. Shitty things had happened to him when he was younger, shitty things had happened to put him in this apartment with these people and shitty things had happened after he'd moved in. But those shitty things were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the overwhelming love he'd felt within these walls.

He'd spent so much time trying to forget and pave over. Build his life up from the bottom like he'd never lived at all. Start over. Be better.

But it wasn't like that, it didn't have to be. Everything that'd happened to him had led him to this moment. To Eskild's open arms, to this apartment, to a college he doubted he'd ever get a chance to attend. Living with his mother's illness, watching his father leave, leaving his mother's house, getting all of his secrets spilled. He wouldn't be here without it. And he was only now realizing that being here wasn't all that bad.

There was popcorn and candy in the living room when he came out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. A pizza was on its way and the lights were low, and Isak sat in the space next to Linn and let her tuck half of the blanket resting on her lap over his, too. He was angry and he was hurt but he'd been in pain before and he'd lived through it and things were better now then they'd been in forever. It'd hurt for as long as it'd hurt, he'd be mad for as long as he would. He was different than he'd been when he was younger but he wasn't bulletproof. He didn't have to be. He could be angry and he could feel lost. He could struggle with his confidence, wish he was someone better; he could want to change the past. But he was who he was and that basic fundamentality wouldn't change now like it hadn't changed in the past.

This was the first time he felt like he was allowed to be angry, like he was allowed to feel hurt. He felt like he deserved to wallow in the emotions he felt, so he did. He simultaneously wanted Even back and wanted to never speak to him again, and he hated himself for both. For being a hundred different kinds of weak, for feeling so much for someone who felt nothing back.

He was allowing himself to _feel_ without shutting himself down for it, and that was the growth he'd been looking for since he was a kid.

“Hell yeah, Uma Thurman, kick his ass,” Eskild muttered from beside Noora, a handful of popcorn in one fist and the other hand stroking Noora's hair. “Fuck boys, Uma Thurman, fuck that guy and fuck Quentin Tarantino and fuck all of them. Fuck me and Isak. Fuck Roderigo who never called me back. Fuck Isak's dad and Noora's dad and fuck Linn's ex who cheated on her and fuck that asshole who outed Isak. Fuck them, Uma Thurman, fuck boys.”

“This is one of the best family nights we've had in a while,” Linn said.

“I'd say it's definitely in the top five,” Eskild agreed. “Up there with last year's Halloween horror movie night and Noora's post-break-up anti-romance movie night.”

“And Isak's here,” Noora said with a smile. “It's better with four.”

Isak smiled back, so goddamn grateful. He could have ended up anywhere, _anything_ could have happened to him that night in the bar where he met Eskild. But he was here, he was with these three people who loved him, and he loved them, too. And he'd had his heart broken and he was mad and he deserved better but he was still here. He'd still ended up here.

He settled back in the couch cushions with a Twizzler and some M&M's and he smiled a day after he thought he'd never smile again.

  
+

Avoiding Even was laughably easy for how often they'd run into each other before Saturday night. It seemed that two people each going out of their ways to not run into each other don't come across one another as often as two people actively seeking out an accidental meeting. Avoiding the questions from his friends, on the other hand, was harder.

He didn't answer the groupchat's questions about Even, only wedged himself in when he knew someone would go check on him if he didn't speak up soon. He gave Jonas excuses when he called and tried to act like he wasn't worried, asking if Isak wanted to grab pizza because he had some coupons delivered to his door. He didn't talk to Eva except to answer _ok_ to her texts about Vilde staying one more night and then one more, didn't talk to Sana or Chris or Vilde, either. Noora had to step around him where he was living out of his backpack in her living room again, but even though he was sure that she knew _something_ had happened because Eva had surely known _something_ she probably wished she could take back, Noora didn't talk about it. She chopped carrots while he was watching _Stranger Things_ and chatted about her journalism classes with Linn, who grunted noncommittally from time to time to show how well she was listening. It didn't appear that Noora had told their other roommates, either, mostly because Noora wasn't like that but also because if Eskild had known, he'd be all over it with fervor, and he was only the same general brand of overbearing that he'd always been.

He missed Even's friendship, that was something he hadn't thought of. He didn't miss kissing Even or fucking him, but he missed talking to him and texting him and having his attention and giving some back. He missed learning more; he'd always loved learning more about Even, every little thing about his life was so interesting and devastatingly _normal_ in a way Isak hadn't had the opportunity to experience.

Missing him competed valiantly with his anger at him, an anger that had arisen on an hours-long run around the city and then had stayed lodged firmly where it'd grown for days afterwards. All he had to do was think too hard and his hands were shaking and he was seeing red. Because not only did Even lead him on, he'd said things that were too easy to misinterpret as something more and then he'd left without a word. It was Wednesday and he'd faked food poisoning to get an excused absence from psychology the day before and he was planning on doing it again the next day. It was Wednesday and Isak had gotten so close to typing out a swift _fuck you_ and hitting send but with every extra hour he didn't hear from Even he started to think it wasn't worth his time. It was Wednesday and he was walking out of a coffee shop at three pm with his second cup of the only thing sustaining him since he couldn't sleep at night.

He saw Even across the courtyard as he approached the science building, cigarette burning between his fingers and a smile on his face, directed at a gorgeous girl leaning against the wall. And it made him _angry_ , to see Even so normal when he was still hurting, it made him angry to see Even unaffected when Isak had been stupid enough to care. It made him angry because he'd been angry for days and while it'd faded into that same familiar sadness and the hurt and the betrayal and all of the cliché heartbreak emotions, it hadn't left at all. Even was laughing with a pretty girl not a week after he was laughing with Isak and making him feel special in every possible way. She'd be next because Even didn't care, not about Isak or anyone who'd come before him. Not about his girlfriend who'd stayed with him after every time he cheated on her, who'd forgiven him again and again and again.

Even didn't look at him, didn't see him at all, wouldn't care if he had. So Isak walked past briskly with NWA blasting in his headphones at a volume so loud it was definitely unhealthy and an anger boiling under his skin with all the hurt and embarrassment and everything else, and he pretended he couldn't see Even like Even didn't see him. He pretended because it was easier that way like it'd always been.

He was angry and he was missing him and he was hurt, he was still hurt. There were so many emotions and so many competing thoughts and he was so fucking tired he didn't know what to do with himself. Sana was already seated in the chemistry lecture hall and Isak took a heavy seat beside her before common sense could tell him to avoid her again like he had on Monday. He knew she was too tactile to talk about it but if he was withdrawing back into the state he went in when he felt emotional pain, then he might as well do it right.

He was already sitting, though, and getting up to move would probably draw more attention to the issue than sitting still and dealing with it.

“Long time no see,” she said without looking at him, busy opening her notebook to the next blank page.

“You've been busy with Yousef,” Isak said, because he was a dick.

She only scoffed. Sana was better at handling confrontation than Isak was or ever could be. “Yousef takes up exactly as much time as he deserves to take up,” she said, smoothing her textbook open and finally turning to him. She leveled him with her calculating look, detached and with an air of nonchalance that he'd learned was all an act a long time ago. “He's been talking with Even.”

“No shit, they fucking live together,” Isak mumbled. Sana was supposed to be better than this. Sana wasn't supposed to ask about this, that was something Magnus and Vilde and Chris would do. He tried to ignore the way his stomach tightened at her words. He was tired of that reaction, of feeling like he suddenly couldn't breathe for the moment.

“What happened?” she asked. And for some reason, he answered.

“He's who I should've known he was,” Isak said. He talked to the table with Sana as a witness beside him. “The guy who takes someone new home every weekend. The guy who cheated on his girlfriend. I don't know. I shouldn't've thought he was different.”

“You shouldn't listen to rumors, Isak,” she said after a moment of silence had fallen between them. He looked up at her and there wasn't any judgment, just a bit of confusion, a bit of sorrow. Like she didn't really know but she thought she had. “You should know that more than anyone.”

“He told me himself,” Isak said. “He told me all of that. I don't listen to rumors, you know I don't. You know I wouldn't believe them.” _You know I've been through them._

“Even didn't cheat on his girlfriend, Isak,” she said, and even though he knew Even would know better than Sana could, he listened to her. He sat up straighter and looked at her more directly and listened to her. “He says he did. I don't know, I guess he thinks he did. They were on the rocks for a long time, for a year. They were sleeping with other people long before they officially ended it. Sonja was doing it, too, by the end they were more friends with benefits than an exclusive couple.”

“Then why would he say that?” Isak asked quietly. Things were happening too quickly. Thoughts were coming without the proper time taken to understand them. He was so tired, he hadn't slept right in days.

“Because Even _loves_ love,” she said. “He always has, I've known him since my brother started middle school and met him. First day of class. Even is obsessed with love and it wasn't perfect like he wanted it to be so he turned it tragic in his head. Sonja and Even did a lot of things wrong, but if he cheated, she did it first, and she didn't mind at all.”

“He said they were dating when he slept with other people.”

“Technically they were, I guess,” she said. “I don't know, Isak, I don't know the details of their relationship. I know it got fucked up and they both thought that the other person deserved better. They ruined it because they wouldn't let it die like it had to. It was everyone's fault, but Even has a habit of blaming himself.”

Did this change anything? He put his head down on the table and he thought and he tried to make sense. Even hadn't cheated on his girlfriend. But Even did everything in his life to punish himself for cheating on his girlfriend. Even had told him everything, things so personal. Isak had assumed he told everyone, he assumed it was the truth. He'd assumed it was easier to own up to it than deny it, when everyone was talking about it anyways. But now he didn't know. And even though he was still angry and sad, he felt a bit of pain for Even, too. He knew what it felt like to hate yourself, to wrestle over nothing and feel hopeless and blame yourself. Everything hurt and nothing made sense, but he was allowing himself that bit of humanity. He was confused and too tired to make sense of anything. But this was something. This had to mean something.

He and Sana didn't get a chance to talk when the lecture started, but he wasn't sure what he'd say if he could.

It was almost the end of class when he got a text and didn't immediately ignore it like he'd been doing for the past few days. It was from Kristian and he had to scroll up in their text chain to remember who that was. It was a mostly one-sided conversation of failed “Hey”s and “What's up?”s and Isak had given a couple of one-word answers but mostly just ignored them because they came so often. He'd forgotten about him almost completely since their one tutoring session, but for some reason, now, he was invested. Probably because Even had been talking to a girl. Probably because now that he knew what it felt like to be wanted again, he wanted to feel it once more.

_This might be a long shot but there's a party this weekend at my place. Do you want to come?_

Isak put way too little thought into his instant reply. _Ok. Send me the address and I'll be there at 10._

  
+

He'd run out of clean clothes and was in no rush to spend two hours at the laundromat, so he returned to Eva's to stuff more flannels in his backpack on Thursday evening. As the door opened he heard Noora, using that gentle voice she always used when she was taking care of someone, and he stopped to listen because he remembered this from his high school days, he remembered Noora stepping up when it wasn't her responsibility and treating Isak like no one had treated him before. She cooked him food, she bought him snacks, she sat with him on the couch and talked about fucked up families. He owed Noora a lot just like he owed everybody something. But he was trying not to think that way anymore.

“Vilde?” Noora called gently, from the hallway to the bedroom. She leaned further against the door and said, “I'm making pasta, would you like any?”

Vilde's response was too quiet to hear, but Noora said, “I'll make a little extra. Just in case. It'll be here if you need it.”

When she was back in the kitchen, Isak let the door fall shut behind him so that she looked up. She smiled, and he did his best to match it. “Hi, Isak.”

“Hi,” he said. “Is... Vilde in the bedroom? I need some more clothes.”

“She's resting,” Noora said softly. “If you ever want to throw your clothes into my room at the kollektiv, I do laundry a lot. It'll save you some trips back and forth.”

“I don't want to do that to you,” Isak said awkwardly, as if she hadn't taken it upon herself to wash his clothes in high school, too, because he never did it himself.

“It's not a problem, Isak,” she said with a stunning smile, taking a knife from the drawer and moving the cutting board from behind the sink. “Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I'm... I'm gonna go back to your place, soon. The kollektiv. Why are you here?”

“Eva has work and Vilde's been kind of down, lately,” Noora said. “So I just wanted to make sure she's eating and doing okay.” She put the knife down at turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling and trying to sound nonchalant when she asked, “Are you doing okay?”

Isak eyed her. “Why?”

“You usually only come back home when you're feeling down,” Noora said, because she knew just like Eskild and Linn did. “I know something happened. But it's okay. You don't have to talk about it.”

Noora had been through her fair share of fucked up things. A fucked up family, a fucked up relationship. Noora knew tact and she knew what people needed. Sometimes it was to talk, to get it out. Sometimes it wasn't.

“I think I'm okay,” Isak said. “I'm... mad. I don't think I've ever been this mad before.”

“Being mad is the first part of healing,” Noora said, slicing a tomato carefully. “I remember what it's like to just feel sad, and hopeless. Being mad for that first time, at someone other than yourself; that's empowering.”

He knew Noora was a badass. He didn't know much of what had happened with William, but he knew something had. And he knew there was something with his brother, too, because on their _fuck boys_ family movie night, when Eskild kept listing off an endless recitation of boys who needed to fuck off, Nikolai Magnusson made that list three separate drunken times.

“Yeah,” Isak said with a small smile.

“Is it just... anger?” she asked, setting her tomato dices aside and pulling a bell pepper towards her on the cutting board. It was easier to talk to her when she wasn't looking at him, but she seemed to know that.

“I'm just confused,” he said. “I don't know. I'm tired. And I'm feeling reckless which is... stupid because I drink when I don't have self-control and then I get even more reckless and do dumb things and tell people things they shouldn't know.”

“Is that why you agreed to go with some strange kid to a party tomorrow night?” Noora asked. “I didn't know you liked strangers or parties.”

Isak winced a little at the reminder. He was shit at cancelling plans with strangers, though, so he was kind of locked into the commitment now. “I don't. At all. But it's too late now, I'm going. I'll stay for like half and hour and then come home, probably, if I can make a good excuse. I doubt he'll even notice I've left, if he notices that I showed up at all.”

“He invited you himself when you've been ignoring his messages for weeks,” Noora said. “I think he'll notice.” She dried her hands on a dishtowel when the tomato and red pepper cubes were piled neatly to the side of the cutting board, and she turned to look at him with one hip against the kitchen counter. “Are you gonna be okay there? If you're craving a drink wouldn't it be smarter to stay home?”

He should've said yes but he didn't. “I'll be fine,” he said, because that'd been his mantra since childhood. He usually wasn't, but he didn't think of that. “When will Eva be home?”

There was a little exasperated eye roll on Noora's side and she said, “Soon, I guess. With Jonas. Which I'm not supposed to know about.”

“Yeah, I don't think any of us are,” Isak said.

“Then they should stop with the public eyefucking for God's sake!” Noora said, hands raising at her sides like she just couldn't help it. She was passionate on this topic. It was rare to see her anything but calm and collected. She turned to him with an expression so intense he was a little bit scared. “Did you know they fucked while we were all in the apartment with her? Do you know how traumatizing that is, Isak? Hearing your best friend having sex on girls' night with a boy she snuck in at two am who she's been in love with since first year of high school? Do you what loud sex through drywall sounds like?”

He didn't mention that he'd lived on the other side of Eskild's room for two long years and experienced all of this, because she seemed to be on a roll right now and she was holding a knife and gesticulating with it wildly. His eyes followed it just so that he'd have advance warning if she were to accidentally chuck it at him.

“It's fucking _gross_ is what it is, Isak,” she said, and now she sounded accusatory, like it was _his_ fault that Jonas and Eva were fucking again. Which, no. He'd been the one to break them up the first time. And as happy as he was for Jonas that he was finally getting what he wanted again in a happy and healthy way, he felt like that'd be the wrong thing to say to Noora at this moment. “It's gross to hear that. I never wanted to hear Eva have sex. I never wanted to hear _Jonas_ have sex. And now I've heard both at the same time.”

“I mean... at least they're happy,” Isak said despite his own mind screaming warnings, and then was prepared to duck the throw of the knife when Noora glared at him. “I'm just gonna.... Do you think I can get some clothes? Would Vilde mind?”

Noora looked at him for a minute, leveling him with a look that said _nice segue, asshole_ and then calmed down in an instant, so quickly Isak wondered if she'd even been excited at all. She shrugged and turned back to the counter and gestured to the door with her knife.

“Have at it, she'll probably let you in. She feels kind of bad about taking your room all the time.”

It makes him sad. “She shouldn't. It's not even my room, it's just... Eva's spare bedroom. I don't want her to feel bad, she's going through a lot.”

“So are you, Isak,” Noora said softly, with that signature calm smile that made it obvious how much she cared without being overwhelming, overbearing.

“But I have people,” he said. “I have... Eskild, and Linn, and that's closer to a family than Vilde has anymore. She has you girls but there's no mom and dad and I have both, kind of.” If you squinted and used your imagination a little, but the point was that he had people taking care of him and that's what family was supposed to do. He had people providing for him and supporting him like his parents were meant to but hadn't. He had a family, as weird and slapped together as it was. He had more than he'd ever had before.

Vilde had fallen asleep in the time between answering Noora and Isak's hesitant entrance when his soft knocks went unanswered. She was fully dressed on top of the covers and her cheeks were red and wet and Isak's heart broke just a little bit because as annoying as Vilde could be, she was still fundamentally a good person. She was a great person. She had stayed when most people wouldn't. She had stayed when Isak hadn't. And she deserved better than this. He packed his backpack with most of the clothes in the dresser and surveyed the room. Vilde's things littered every surface and she was living neatly out of her suitcase that sat on the desk. All of the mess in the room was from Isak's stuff and he felt bad about that so he cleaned it up. Swept it into a pile in one corner, obscured by the edge of the dresser. And then he pulled a blanket over Vilde because he couldn't not. She was so small and she deserved better than this. She deserved a lot better.

He closed the door softly and he said goodbye to Noora and he started back to the kollektiv because the kollektiv made him feel safe and loved to such an extent he'd never known before. Things were feeling bad again, seeing Vilde had made him sad again, made him think about his mom again and that made him think about Even because one sadness lead to another in his head.

But with Eskild on one side and Linn on the other it faded to a dull ache. Because Isak loved the idea of love like Even did, he wanted love so badly, he always had—but he had it already. It wasn't exactly what he craved now, but it was somehow deeper. He'd wanted a family and he hadn't had a family. He wanted that love, and now he had it. He had time for romance, he had years. It didn't keep it from hurting, that rejection and that betrayal, he still felt like shit for telling his secrets and having someone give them away when they should have kept them safe, lose them like they meant nothing. It still hurt but it was in perspective, now. He could handle it now. And someday it'd stop.

  
+

Knowing it'd get better didn't stop it from hurting now. He walked into the house at the address Kristian had sent and he felt like shit and the last time he'd been at a party like this was only last weekend and he'd gone home with a boy he liked so much, a boy he'd told so much too, and the time before that he'd smoked with Even and smiled with him and talked about everything and bared his goddamn soul and it was a lot. It was too much.

“Hey, you made it!” Kristian yelled above the music, coming up to him with a drink in his hand. “I was hoping you'd come!”

“Yeah!” Isak said back, because he didn't know what else to say. “Cool party.” It was straight out of a coming of age film but it was all he had. He wasn't here with the boy he wanted to be here with and it made him feel even more like shit because he shouldn't still _want_ Even after everything that happened between them. But he did, despite every self-preserving instinct telling him not to. He'd never felt so connected with someone else, he'd never slept with someone he liked so much. That's what made it hard. Even wasn't his first time having sex by any means but Even was his first time for so many other reasons.

“Want a drink?” Kristian yelled, leaning close.

Isak didn't even have it in him to hate himself when he said, “Yeah,” back.

He was two beers in when he saw Even. Even who didn't see him, Even who was smiling with his friends. Elias was there, and Mikael and Mutta and Adam who he didn't know very well, and Yousef with his hand on the small of Sana's back, helping her navigate the crowd so that she didn't have to touch very many people, blocking her bodily and glaring at people who brushed against her on accident. Kristian was talking to him and he was leaning against the wall but his eyes were on Even and his mind was there, too. Whatever Kristian was saying was falling on deaf ears and Isak didn't even care. He hadn't had a drink in ages. If two beers was enough to get him tipsy, he was ready to have enough to forget.

“Can you get me another beer?” Isak asked Kristian, probably interrupting him in the middle of a sentence. He didn't care. “Or something stronger?”

“I can mix you a drink, if you want,” Kristian said. “Vodka and Coke?”

“Perfect,” Isak said distractedly, eyes falling on Even again. “Thanks.”

He didn't like feeling this way and he didn't want to think that he'd made a mistake taking that first sip of alcohol when he'd sworn himself off the stuff, so his solution was to have more. He could regret this in the morning. Right now he was tired of regretting everything else.

Even wasn't looking at him. Even hadn't seen him yet. Isak was torn between wanting him to and wanting to run and fucking hide if his gaze got close. He was so sick of not knowing how to feel.

Kristian came back with a full cup and when Isak took a sip he almost choked on the sheer amount of vodka mixed into the Coke. Kristian's brows furrowed and he asked, “Sorry, is it okay? I don't make drinks much. I might've put a little too much alcohol in it.”

But the more alcohol the faster it'd work so Isak just smiled at him and said, “This is fine, thank you,” and downed a gulp of it that made his throat burn. He didn't like vodka at the best of times but desperate times and all that.

Sana and Yousef were smiling and talking and giggling against the far wall, Yousef's fingers twisting the tassels on the end of her hijab and palm rubbing up and down her arm and if they were still trying to be subtle they weren't trying very hard. They hadn't tried hard in a long time; Yousef had been whipped since Isak met him and Sana was always with him when she wasn't with one of the girls. He watched them for a few minutes while Kristian talked to him because he couldn't watch Even right now. Their touches were so soft and pure and full of love and Isak didn't _want_ to be envious of it, Sana _deserved_ someone to treat her like that, maybe more than anyone he'd ever met, but he couldn't help wishing that on himself. It'd been what he wanted since he was a kid, just to have someone who wanted him for everything he was. He'd never found it in anything more than friendship and while he felt lucky for those friendships because he couldn't find what he'd wanted in family, he wanted more than that, too.

And Even—

Even made him feel like he deserved it, too. Even made it feel like it wasn't so goddamn impossible. Like being loved that way was something he could have. No one else had ever made him feel that way. The boys he slept with in high school and college were there for a night and then Isak got scared and sad and he left because it wasn't right. It wasn't what he wanted anymore but he still went. It still happened, over and over and over again. They wanted nothing more from him and he didn't have anything more to give them because they wouldn't like any part of him but what he showed. They wouldn't like the long nights in the library, the fucked up family, the friendships he abused for a place to spend the night. These boys wouldn't want him to stay through morning and Isak knew that. He should have known that. It would have saved him from feeling like this, this last time when he woke up alone. But he'd let his guard down with Even, because Even had made him feel safe. And he still didn't know what Even had told him that he hadn't told everyone else, how Even had thought of him before he left, because he didn't think it mattered. Even had still left. That was what mattered and that was what hurt.

His eyes had drifted back to him, long lines and a white t-shirt and a gray flannel. He was with Elias and Elias was watching Yousef as if waiting for something to go wrong where he stood huddled with Sana, touching her sweetly, pulling her out of the way of drunk partygoers. Elias still eyed them warily but Isak watched Even, talking to Mutta where they were leant against the wall. Mikael and Adam had left, disappeared, and Kristian was still saying things to him and Isak took another long drink from his cup until it was almost empty and his head was spinning. He was drunk like he hadn't been in a year. He was hurt like he hadn't been since high school. He was staring at Even and he didn't know how to feel.

“What happened there?” he heard Kristian ask, and since it was a question Isak turned his attention over. The room was spinning and Kristian was close. Isak finished the rest of the drink in his hand and took Kristian's beer from the windowsill beside them. Kristian let him.

“Where?” Isak asked after a minute, processing his statement.

Kristian gestured vaguely to the other side of the room without his eyes following the motion, and said, “With you and Even. I heard there was something.”

“He's an asshole,” Isak said in reply, but he didn't know if he really believed that. He didn't think he did.

“Did you hook up with him?” Krisitian asked, voice low in the din of the sound around them. Isak was too fucked up to notice that that was a weird question to ask a near-stranger. He was too fucked up to not answer.

“Yeah, we fucked and he left without saying a fucking word.”

Kristian watched him for a minute, and Isak managed to look back for a moment before looking at Even again. Kristian looked like he was calculating the repercussions of what he was about to say and Isak wanted him to just fucking spit it out because he was tired of no one else knowing. He took long drinks of the beer can until it was half empty and his eyes fell to Kristian again, rising above him where Isak was slumped against the wall.

“He's fucking crazy, you know,” Kristian said, and even in his drunken state Isak stilled. Kristian took his attention as a cue to keep talking. Isak didn't want to admit that he wanted him to. “A buddy of mine went to high school with him. He tried to _kill_ himself third year. With a _knife_.”

Isak felt a bit like he couldn't breathe but Kristian didn't notice.

“He's bipolar. Got depressed over trying to get with a boy who didn't like him back and tried to off himself in the bathtub. Fully dressed and everything. Didn't even care that he had that smoking hot girlfriend of his when he tried to kiss his friend.”

“He's...” Isak didn't know where he was going with that. He didn't feel like he could sort through his thoughts and emotions in his head but he knew he couldn't pick at them aloud with Kristian right next to him ready to hear everything. God, what the fuck had he said that night, the night they slept together? They'd talked about his family, they'd talked about his _mother_. Even didn't leave for no reason. Even left because Isak made him.

He fished his phone from his pocket frantically and walked away from Kristian without saying anything, without looking back. He locked himself in a bathroom upstairs that he probably wasn't supposed to be in and sat down on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the blinking cursor waiting for him to type out a message to the boy he'd wanted to talk to all week.

All he could write was _I'm so sorry_ and his phone's autocorrect did most of that for him. And he didn't get an answer right away so he sent it again without thinking.

God, he felt like he was going to pass out. He didn't know how many shots were in that Coke and vodka, but he knew he'd drank them all in about five minutes. His head was spinning almost as much as the walls around him.

The answer came after a few minutes. _Are you okay?_

Isak laughed but he wanted to cry and he didn't know why. He felt like things were falling apart and he'd ruined his best friend's relationship when he was sixteen and he'd left his mother when he was seventeen and he hadn't had a drink in a year but here he was without any fucking handle on the situation, so out of control in that way he hated, in that way he'd always hated. He didn't have a place to live and he was a burden on all his friends and he was leading on a guy he didn't like at all and he hadn't slept since Saturday night. He had a chemistry exam coming up and a lab report due and he'd told a boy he liked so much that his mental illness made him not worth anything.

The room was too small so he stumbled out of it, he moved down the stairs but it was too small there, too, there were too many people and they were all touching him and knocking into him and they didn't know he was dizzy and sad and hating himself because they couldn't know that. He wanted to go outside and he wanted to go home and he wanted to fall into Eskild's bed beside him and sleep in someone else's embrace for the first time in a long time. He'd wanted to feel something for once and now he was, he was feeling so much.

“Isak?” someone called, but he didn't turn around. He fought his way to the door, pushed people aside and felt them push him back. He didn't care. Someone grabbed his arm and he turned towards them to yank out of their grasp.

“Isak, what's wrong?” Sana asked, reaching up to touch his face and root him in the moment. Yousef was behind her, blocking them from the encroaching crowd, and Sana's hand felt like heaven on his heated skin. “Isak, are you looking at me?” she asked. “Do you see me?”

“I'm leaving,” he said dumbly. She didn't ask if he was drunk. She didn't have to.

“Okay,” she said. Even drunk he knew she was placating him. “How about I walk with you? Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“To Eskild's?” she asked. “Or to Eva's? Or Jonas's?”

Isak closed his eyes to clear his thoughts and push away the voices of the people around him. “Eskild's,” he said. “Home.”

“Okay,” Sana said with a nod. “Why don't I call him? He can come pick you up.”

Isak glanced at the door, then the crowd of people. His eyes fell down to Sana and he nodded.

“Great,” she said, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket. “Let's go outside where it's quieter and we can talk to him there.”

He nodded again, let her wrap an arm around his waist and lead him out of the crowd with Yousef on his other side clearing a path for them. He still felt like shit but he loved Sana. He didn't deserve his friends. He treated people like shit and people still came back for him.

The cold air hit him like a brick wall and he started from the sensation, goosebumps rising and jacket inside. Sana slid something warm over him and it was a coat that was too big for him that he pulled around him anyways. He sat on the stoop because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, knees folded to his chest and arms wrapped around himself. He remembered Even had texted him back and he rushed to pull his phone from his pocket at the realization.

_Are you okay?_

The message stared at him and Isak stared back. The screen went dim and he tapped on it to light it back up. He didn't know what to say and he knew he shouldn't say anything. He knew it wasn't right, he knew he should let it go. Even didn't owe him anything, not after what Isak had said to him.

He fucked up everything.

And still he wrote, _I'm sorry I said what I said. Sorry I made you leave._

He didn't have to wait for a reply. Even was walking out of the door behind him and stopping in front of Yousef, stood in the driveway and watching Sana talk seriously on the phone. Isak just stared up with big eyes because he was drunk and sad and cold and Even hadn't seen him yet.

“What happened?” Even asked, brows furrowed, glancing back at Sana. Yousef didn't have time to answer before Even's eyes fell to Isak and he stopped. Stared back. Isak didn't have any words so he just looked. Held eye contact. This was all he could have for now.

“He's not okay,” Yousef said in a whisper that the wind carried to Isak. He wasn't even offended. He _wasn't_ okay.

“What happened?” Even asked again, but it was gentler than before and his eyes were on Isak. They hadn't moved.

“Sana's calling his roommate. He'll come pick Isak up. Don't worry, bro. She's got it handled.”

“Isak lives with Eva,” Even said, finally turning back to Yousef.

“It's where I used to live,” Isak said, voice hoarse, and both boys looked at him like they hadn't expected as much. He cleared his throat, tried to sort his thoughts to words and push them through his lips. “It's Eskild. From the picture.”

“Eskild,” Even repeated, turning it over on his tongue like he had before. He tried a smile. “He's not your boyfriend.”

Isak tried a smile back. “No, he's not.”

The smiles didn't stay. The smiles fell fast. Yousef moved away and Even stared at Isak and Isak stared back.

He didn't know what else to say. Maybe they were bad for each other. Maybe he was bad for Even.

“I didn't mean to make you leave that night,” Isak said quietly. But he held his gaze while he did, he looked in his eyes while he did. “I didn't mean to say those things. I shouldn't have.”

Even's brows were creased and he looked like he was searching for words, too. Speaking had never been this hard between them.

“You didn't say anything,” Even said. “I didn't... I didn't mean to leave.”

Isak couldn't think about it. An Uber was there with his address and Sana was calling from the curb and Yousef was helping him stand. Isak watched Even disappear through the window and Even watched back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can check in on my progress for the next chapters at [supermansplaining](https://supermansplaining.tumblr.com/) and ask me questions there. anons are on for now :)


	6. Nas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys :) not totally happy with this chapter but i decided to post instead of continue workshopping and change basically nothing. i finished writing it last week and have spent the days since halfheartedly editing. last chapter went in a different direction than i'd planned out so this one had to catch up to it in a way i wasn't really prepared to write. but anyways. it's up now, so that's good!
> 
> thank you all so so much for your comments and kudos and for those of you who share my links on tumblr (or twitter, i guess, i don't have a twitter so i don't know) that's really sweet. i'm sorry for these long periods between updates but you're welcome to ask me about my progress on tumblr whenever you want :)
> 
> as always, even's pov is way harder for me to write than isak's and that's probably why i dislike this chapter. but i hope you enjoy it!

**EVEN**

Even had been staring at his phone for about fifteen minutes, hair still a tousled mess atop his head and the prints of his pillowcase red on his cheek. He looked at the four messages he and Isak had exchanged last night over and over again, read them as if they'd make more sense the tenth time around. They didn't. He slowly came to the realization that he would actually have to do something about this if he wanted answers, he would actually have to text him and ask what exactly the fuck was going on because this last week had been a little hellish and he was tired of feeling this way. If Isak had rejected him, then at least it was time to figure out why.

He still agonized over the text to send for another five minutes, starting and erasing. He hoped Isak wasn't looking at his phone thinking the same thing because the constant come and go of the typing bubble was a little embarrassing given the text he settled on. _Hope you're feeling better this morning._

He didn't have to wait long for a reply. It was Saturday at nine am and most college students aren't awake Saturdays at 9 am. Isak was, though, because of course he was. At least the universe wasn't going to make him wait and stew in his anxiety. He kind of wished the universe would've given him a little more time, though.

Costanza was staring at him ruefully from the pillow beside him, because he'd wandered into Even's bedroom and Even had forcefully cuddled him and closed the door so he couldn't leave. He got a few scratches on his arm but he didn't really care. His cats weren't the best at providing comfort but it was better than nothing.

With a stroke to Costanza's head that the cat barely tolerated, Even opened the text.

_I have a fucking hangover but I'm okay. I'm really sorry, Even._

Even couldn't stop seeing him like he'd been last night. Sitting cold on the stoop in Yousef's jacket, drunk and near tears and looking small, looking so fucking small. Even had only ever seen Isak as larger than life, amazing, this incredible idea he'd concocted in his mind. When Isak didn't text him when Even had asked, he'd spent the following week assuming he was fine because why wouldn't he? Why would Even be even a fucking blip on his radar? Why would he think he could've been?

But last night on the stairs—it was so obvious that Even wasn't the only one hurting. The only one in pain. He'd been rejected by a boy he liked and he didn't even question it, he didn't think he had a right. He was nothing compared to Isak, he could never deserve Isak. He figured that Isak had noticed that, too. That Isak had gotten sex with him out of his system and decided that Even wasn't worth any more time. Even wouldn't blame him. That's why he'd spent the last week sad instead of mad. Being left had felt inevitable; he'd prepared his whole life for it. He'd been bad for Sonja and everyone who came after her. He'd known from the start he wasn't good enough for Isak.

It didn't change the fact that Isak didn't look okay on the steps. He was drunk and sad and tired, he had circles beneath his eyes so dark it was like he hadn't slept in days.

 _I don't know what you're sorry for,_ he wrote back, because Isak shouldn't be sorry, not about last night and not about deciding Even wasn't worth his time. Sometimes Even felt like he wasn't worth his own time.

The text bubble appeared and disappeared for a good minute before a text finally made it through. _Can we meet for coffee?_

Even stared and stared. He stared for so long that another text popped up. _We don't have to. The screen is just hurting my head._

He didn't understand any of this but he knew that if Isak wanted to talk, then they would talk. Anything Isak wanted, just like always.

 _Of course we can meet,_ he wrote. _Wherever you want._

 _Coffeeshop on campus?_ Isak asked. _An hour?_

Even typed out an _okay_ as he scrambled out of bed and grabbed his towel from the back of his desk chair. The bathroom door between his room and Adam and Mutta's was closed and he knocked at it rapidly until Mutta yelled at him to fuck off and he nearly fell down the stairs to get to the other shower. An hour was usually plenty of time to get ready and get to campus but he didn't want to take any chances. He wasn't going to make Isak wait and he wasn't going to leave without explanation. Not this time.

He skidded to a halt in the kitchen so he didn't step on Elaine and Juniper eating in front of the kitchen island, cursing as he tried to maneuver around them. When he looked up three pairs of eyes were staring back and he stood still for a second.

“You don't live here,” he said, and Sana raised one eyebrow.

“Perceptive,” she said.

Even glanced at Elias pouring coffee and his eyes landed on Yousef at the stove before returning to Sana. “Did you... spend the night here?”

Elias choked on his coffee and Yousef dropped his spatula and turned around with wide eyes.

“No, man, what the fuck,” Yousef said. “She came over for breakfast. Jesus.”

“Well I don't know!” Even said.

“Why are you running at eight am in your boxers?” Sana asked, bringing a mug of tea to her perfectly painted lips.

“I have somewhere to be,” Even answered, suddenly extremely conscious of his plaid boxers and old t-shirt.

“Where do you have to be?” Yousef asked.

“Yeah, you don't have any other friends but us,” Elias said.

“I'm meeting, um....” He blushed a little and he didn't really understand why except that he'd been moping and feeling sorry for himself all week and everyone probably knew that it was about Isak because everyone knew that he'd slept with Isak. “I'm meeting Isak. For coffee. To... talk, I guess.”

Sana arched an eyebrow and sipped from her mug to hide her smile. Even noticed. So did Yousef, and Yousef smiled, too, without taking his eyes from her.

“Why are you smiling?” Even asked. When she shrugged, he said, “Have you talked to him? Have you talked to Isak?”

“Of course I've talked to him, he's in two of my classes and he lives with two of my best friends, depending on the day. I talk to him all the time.”

“What'd you talk about?” Even asked. He sounded desperate. He didn't care.

“None of your business,” Sana said. “You'll find out if you get to the coffee shop. I'd suggest wearing something different.”

Even rolled his eyes and left without saying anything else, closing the bathroom door behind him and starting the shower. The last week had been hell. He'd finally let himself want again and he'd been crushed by the outcome. But more than abandonment and betrayal was the thought that he deserved it. He fucked up his past relationship, he cheated on his girlfriend, he ruined everything, he always had. He thought he'd been ready but the universe thought differently. He'd accepted it. It was punishment, it was deserved, and Isak didn't owe him anything. Even didn't blame him for not sticking around. If he was in the same position, he didn't think he would stay, either.

But now Isak wanted to _talk,_ and Even didn't know what exactly that meant but he knew that it meant there was a chance. And his gut reaction was to be elated. He wanted to seize the potential opportunity, he wanted to have what he wanted for once, in a way he hadn't allowed himself in over a year. But he couldn't ignore the feeling that Isak didn't deserve this. No one did.

His shower was quick and the water was hot. When he got out the mirror was fogged over and his towel was warm from the steam, and by the time he realized he would have to walk past Sana with only a towel wrapped around his waist he was already there. Adam was there, too, drinking a glass of orange juice.

“Looking good, Bech Næsheim,” Sana said.

“I hope this breakfast thing doesn't become a thing,” Even said, holding his clothes against his chest protectively to cover as much of himself as he could. “It's kind of a bummer having you around so early.”

“You're kind of a bummer,” Adam said, and held up his hand for a high-five that no one granted him.

“I'm leaving,” Even said, starting his walk to the stairs.

“Wear something sexy,” Elias called, and Even was kind of _planning_ to but he didn't want to give Elias that satisfaction so he called, “Fuck off,” instead and disappeared into his bedroom. It took him far longer to pick out clothes than it had to take a shower, which was ridiculous because his “look” consisted only of t-shirts and layered jackets above skinny jeans and sneakers. Everything was the same but it still took twenty minutes to separate one band t-shirt from the next and one pair of blue jeans from one gray. He didn't do anything with his hair except use his fingers as a comb to move it from his face because when they'd kissed and fucked and laid together after, Isak's hands were always in Even's hair, pulling and grabbing and holding on. Even had come to the conclusion that Isak liked it better unstyled. And if he was going to meet with Isak and possibly get his heart broken all over again at least he could make Isak want him while it was happening.

Every single roommate was in the kitchen when he walked past to leave, surrounding Sana sitting at the kitchen island with a plate full of food made by Yousef. It seemed that he'd cooked only for her and then abandoned the stove.

“You're seeing Isak?” Mikael asked, the top of his hair pulled into a high ponytail, wearing boxers and a hoodie and fuzzy socks that Sonja had left in their house when she and Even broke up. Mikael adored those fuzzy socks with the same intensity that he'd abhorred Sonja by the end of the relationship. He was holding Elaine and Elaine was gnawing on his nose.

“Why?” Even asked cautiously, holding his keys in one hand and tucking his wallet into his back pocket with the other.

“Can't wait to say 'I told you so,'” Mikael said with a smile, letting the cat jump from his arms. Sana made a face as Elaine started stalking towards her atop the kitchen counter, and Yousef rushed to the rescue, picking the cat up and dropping her onto the floor, braving a few scratches as he went. Even wanted to roll his eyes at that show of chivalry but he couldn't deny that it was sweet, even if it was really really lame, too.

“Why would you be able to say _I told you so_?” Even asked.

“Because I told you to stop _fucking_ moping and text the guy.”

“He probably wants to talk to end it for good,” Even said, stomach falling a little bit at the thought.

“Why would he want to meet up with you to tell you he doesn't want to see you again?” Mutta asked. “He'd just keep avoiding you.”

“Maybe he's going to tell me he regrets ever talking to me,” Even said.

“Why would anyone take the time to do that,” Elias asked, trying to steal some of Sana's eggs. She stabbed his hand with the tines of her fork.

“Don't overthink this, Even,” Sana said. “Just talk to him. Don't go in with expectations. Literally just talk. That's all it takes.”

This sounded like the wisest thing to Even's ears, even though it was common sense advice that maybe he would have thought of himself if he'd taken two seconds over the past week to calm the fuck down.

“You're so smart, Sana,” he said.

“Yeah, you'd be surprised at how stupid Isak is about this, too. Communicate. It's not that hard.”

The door fell closed behind him and he was dressed too warmly for the mild weather. He plugged his headphones in and listened to Nas on Spotify. He smoked a cigarette on the way to the tram stop and two more on the way to coffee shop, stubbing it out in the ashtray on top of the trash can outside the door. When he stepped inside, Isak wasn't there yet. And he didn't know what the protocol was for meeting a guy you'd slept with and then abandoned who'd never called you afterwards, but he decided to do what he always did. He ordered Isak coffee. Dark roast with sugar.

He sat in a table for two by the window and stared out of it. When his phone buzzed in his lap he was prepared for it to be Isak with such certainty that when the text said, _Brooooo have u talked to Isak,_ he could only blink at it for solid seconds because it didn't make sense. He glanced at the name going along with the text preview and when it was Magnus it all came together in his head and he could actually process the text. Jesus, he was nervous.

_I'm meeting him soon. Why? Have you talked to Isak?_

He tapped his foot, staring at the phone screen and willing another text to come through. He'd gotten Magnus's number the day he'd sought out Sana's roommates' assistance after Yousef convinced him not to stalk Isak at the library. Magnus had been enthusiastic in inputing his phone number after lending his deep-seated Isak knowledge to composing Even's pathetic texts for him.

 _I've been trying to get in touch with him_ , Magnus had texted. _He's been sad all week and avoiding our questions but this is important! Jonas said you ditched him but I knew it couldn't be true. I knew I was right!_

Even's foot stopped tapping as he read and reread the text. _Jonas said you ditched him_. He knew there'd been confusion but he didn't think it'd gone anywhere near that issue. He didn't understand. He was fucking sick of not understanding.

_Wait what?_

As the text sent, Even glanced out the window. Isak was walking down the sidewalk, and before last night Even hadn't seen him at all, and he'd missed seeing him, and he still felt like he was missing out on it. He was drinking in the sight, as Isak walked closer to the coffee shop door, as his phone buzzed in his lap again. He looked down as the bell noted Isak's arrival.

_Vilde found your note._

Even barely had time to process this before Isak was standing at his side, looking down. When Even looked up, a bit speechless with his mind running out of his capacity, he looked nervous and shy and like maybe he would rather not be there. Even didn't blame him. Isak had thought he'd been treated like just another one-night stand; Even was famous for them.

Even had left him a note and waited for Isak to make the next move, and he'd known it was a cowardly move at the time but now he hated it more. He'd let his fear get the best of him and now Isak was looking at him in a way he'd never looked at him before; like he was scared. Like Even was going to hurt him, and like he couldn't be hurt.

“I bought you coffee,” Even said, voice hoarse.

“Thank you,” Isak said softly, hesitantly pulling out the chair across from Even and taking a seat. Even's thoughts were still racing. Isak hadn't gotten his note. Isak had thought he'd been treated the same way Even treated all of his hookups since Sonja, but it was worse, because Isak had shared so much with him. Even had spent a week thinking that Isak wanted nothing from him because Isak had realized that he could do so much better. He hadn't been angry. He hoped Isak had been.

He didn't ever deserve to be treated like he didn't mean anything, especially after opening up in a way he didn't to anyone else, about things that he'd struggled with since childhood. Even hoped he'd been mad. He hoped he'd been pissed. He didn't want anyone to get away with treating Isak this way, even himself, even by accident. He would explain everything, make Isak feel better, hopefully. But for the time past, he wanted Isak to realize that he didn't deserve that.

“I'm sorry,” he said after a long stretch of the most uncomfortable silence that'd ever fallen between them. They always knew how to talk to each other, even when Isak didn't know about Even's affections and even when Even was pining unrealized.

Isak shook his head, eyes on his coffee cup. “You shouldn't be sorry.”

“I don't think we're on the same page here, Isak,” Even tried.

“I shouldn't have said that stuff about my mom,” Isak said, eyes darting up to look at him. “I should never have said it. She didn't fuck me up, Even, my dad leaving fucked me up and then... then taking her and admitting her fucked me up. It wasn't her schizophrenia. It wasn't her mental illness.”

Even blinked at him. “What?” he asked.

“I don't talk to her anymore,” Isak said, taking his confusion as an excuse for further explanation. “But that's not her fault, it's mine. She... my dad started taking care of her again when I was seventeen and I'd spent a year trying, I really had, but when she didn't need me anymore I had to... I had to get out, I was sixteen when I started taking care of her and I didn't have the resources to do it right so it was exhausting. I was a kid. I love my mom, I wish it was different, but it was... my dad ruined it, ruined that relationship. I didn't mean what I said about her.”

“Isak, what are you... why are you saying this?” he asked.

Isak looked up at him with slowly blinking eyes. “It's why you left, isn't it?” he asked.

“I don't....” Even shook his head. “No, Isak. I didn't leave. Or, I didn't mean to leave. It wasn't anything you did. I wouldn't... you deserved better than that morning. I didn't want to leave you.”

“Then why did you?” he asked. His voice was pleading. He wanted to understand.

“I left you a note,” Even supplied weakly.

Isak's brows furrowed. “A note?”

Even sighed. “When you talked about your mom, I knew I had to tell you. What you seem to have already figured out. About my bipolar.”

“I didn't mean to find out,” Isak said, wincing a little. “Someone told me.”

“It's okay,” Even said, and he found that it was. He'd been so afraid of telling Isak when telling Isak could have avoided all of this. Now that Isak knew, he felt better. He felt less weighted. “I wanted to tell you. I knew I _had_ to tell you, if I wanted anything more with you. Because of your past with your parents, and everything. But when morning came and I had to go, I just... I couldn't tell you then. In case it ended badly, in case you didn't want anything to do with me. I just wanted a little more time with you, if I could get it. So I left a note.”

Isak shook his head.

“I did. Telling you how much I like you. That I wanted you to text me. And... and you never texted me. So I figured you didn't think it was as important as I had.” He smiled a little bit, because Isak was smiling, too, just a bit. “Check your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Your phone. Check it.”

Isak pulled it from his pocket and unlocked it with his thumb, staring down. He tapped at the screen. He stared some more, and then he bit down a smile and looked up at Even with his teeth sunk into his bottom his lip. Even tried to ignore the feelings that caused him. This wasn't about that.

“You left me a note,” Isak said softly, letting his smile out.

“I left you a note,” Even repeated. He couldn't not smile when Isak was looking at him like that. He didn't want to not smile.

“We need to start over,” Isak said. It wasn't a suggestion or a demand. It was something he knew Even would agree to. And Even would. He so, so would.

“We do,” he agreed.

“I think we rushed things last time.”

And it was true. Even had pined after Isak for more than a semester, but everything between them had occurred at a breakneck speed of less than a week. Isak realized Even wasn't fucking around and two days later they were fucking. It was ridiculous. It was too fast, and they'd both wanted to do this right but they'd messed it up immediately.

“I still want it if you do,” Isak said softly, looking at him with a certain vulnerability he was so careful about showing. His words made Even light up from the inside.

“So do I, Isak, _fuck_.” But things had to change. Things had to be different this time around. And they both knew it.

Isak smiled and spun his cup between his palms. “But I'm still trying to work my own shit out,” he said. “I got drunk last night for the first time in a year and I feel really shitty about it. I just don't know how... ready I am for this. How good I'll be at this.”

“So let's take it slow this time,” Even said. “Let's be friends. Just friends.”

“Just friends,” Isak repeated. He tilted his head and bit his lip again. “I don't know if I want to be just friends.”

Even smiled. “We don't have to _stay_ just friends.”

Isak smiled. “No?”

“Let's just do this the right way,” Even said. “Slow.”

“Not too slow,” Isak amended.

“Not too slow,” Even agreed with a smile.

Isak reached across the table and took Even's hand like they hadn't just agreed to be just friends. Even looked pointedly at their hands and then raised an eyebrow at Isak. Isak rolled his eyes. “Just friends can hold hands, Even.”

Even looked at him in exasperated amusement. “Can they, Isak?”

Isak smiled. “They can.”

“Well that's good, then,” Even said. “I don't know how I'd do without being able to hold your hand. Can't give up everything since I've seen you naked.”

“And had me inside you,” Isak said, and Even blushed as Isak smirked and leaned back. “This is gonna be fun. I'm gonna like being your just friend.”

“We're going to do this the right way, Isak,” Even warned.

“Can't wait, Even,” he answered with a wink.

  
+

“Doing this the right way” apparently meant endless and copious amounts of flirting. Flirting through text, flirting in class, flirting over coffee when Even begged without subtlety to study psychology together. It was an intro class, it wasn't as difficult as Even was making it out to be, and both of them knew that. Days of flirting, days of new experiences. Days of relearning each other in a better way, a slower way, than the rush they'd been in the first time.

He was finally able to flirt with Isak like he'd been trying to all along. Because now Isak actually _realized_ it and gave back as good as he got. Now Isak blushed and it was an image he'd been missing.

In psychology class on Tuesday Isak got an email from his biology professor cancelling class, and Even couldn't be more delighted. “Do you want to get lunch?” he asked, reading over Isak's shoulder and smiling when Isak turned to look at him.

“Eager, much?” he asked, blushing a little himself while Even, for possibly the first time in his life, remained cool and collected. Knowing Isak felt the same took off so much of the pressure he'd placed on himself. And they'd already gotten the nerve-wracking stuff out of the way; the first kiss, the first time having sex, the first fight. They knew each other's worsts and that made everything else easier.

“Should I not be?” Even asked, that same bravado he usually let shine through. But it was something more, too.

Isak was smiling at him, their chairs close together, their knees knocking under the table. “You seem pretty confident that I'll say yes.”

“You seem like you want to say yes,” Even said back, and Isak blushed a little bit. What an amazing sight.

“Maybe I do,” he said. “But I need to stop by my apartment first. I left my laptop at home and I have to submit an essay before noon.”

“Is the essay already written?” Even asked uncertainly.

“Are you saying you're not willing to watch me write an essay before we go to eat?” Isak asked, and Even blinked at him because, no, that wasn't really his idea of a good time, but he was so whipped he'd probably do it anyways. Isak smiled. “I'm kidding, it's already written. My roommate was looking over it this morning for me. I just forgot to bring my laptop so I can submit it on time.”

“Oh, that's better,” Even said. “Yeah, I can do that okay.”

“A good friend would wait for me to write the essay.”

“A good boyfriend would bring you food while you write your essay,” Even said, and Isak blushed again and Even loved it again. It was clear in that pink tint that he wasn't too used to being doted on. Even wanted to change that. He planned to change that.

“Well you don't have to do either,” Isak finally said, and closed his notebook as the professor dismissed class. They hadn't paid attention to most of it; Even kept whispering to him to start conversation and Isak kept kicking him under the lecture desk and trying not to laugh out loud. “We'll stop by for a minute and be out before Eskild can have a look at you.”

“You think he'd like what he'd see?” Even teased, swinging his backpack over his shoulders and waiting for Isak to finish closing his own.

“Don't pretend like anyone wouldn't,” Isak said, standing up himself and leaving Even blushing as he walked past him. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder. “I'm hungry.”

“This is the apartment you were living in high school?” Even asked, catching up with him in two long strides. When Isak said he was going to his apartment, Even rarely knew where he was off to. Sometimes it was Eva's and sometimes it was Eskild's. Half the time he said he was going to “a friend's place,” and that could mean Jonas's parents' house or Magnus and Mahdi's apartment. He was uprooted more than anyone Even knew, and he braved it with a happy face but Even could imagine that it took its toll. Isak had a history of feeling unwanted, and Even knew him on every surface level but he knew that, too, in the same way Isak knew of Even's problem with overthinking and his fear of a lack of control. Isak had the same traits. Even couldn't help but think that they could help each other.

“Yeah,” Isak said, falling into step beside him. “Are you about to be jealous again?”

“That depends. Has Eskild become your boyfriend since Saturday night?”

“I finally gave into the temptation,” Isak said with a smile, nudging him with his shoulder as they walked. “You've missed your chance. This is why we're just friends.”

“Just friends,” Even repeated, nudging him back and smiling. “I can wait until you get tired of Eskild. Until you want a real man. I'll be there.”

“You're fucking ridiculous,” Isak said, biting at his bottom lip to hide his smile. That did things to Even and made him want to do things to Isak, things he couldn't do until he got to move past being “just friends.”

“I'm manly,” Even said.

“Sorry, how many cats do you have, Even?” Isak asked, looking up at him. When Even grinned, Isak rolled his eyes. “So tough.”

“You have to be tough to handle those fucking cats, they hate people.”

Isak stopped at the tram stop and Even stopped next to him. “Where are you taking me to eat?”

“Oh, am I taking you to eat?” Even asked.

“I don't have any money and you extended the invitation so, yeah, you're taking me to eat. And you're paying.”

“You're demanding.”

“I expect a lot out of men.”

“Then I'll try to deliver.”

They knocked into each other, standing on the tram. Even kept being shoved forward by the man behind him and falling into Isak's chest. Isak kept smirking and Even kept trying to right himself with a blush only to be knocked over again.

“This isn't what friends do, Bech Næsheim,” Isak teased after the third time it happened, an arm around Even's back, bracing him against the rocking of the tram and the motions of the man. It felt safe in a way that maybe it shouldn't have, since it was so soon, since they'd hurt each other so badly and so unnecessarily. He looked down at Isak when he spoke. “Come on, this is my stop.” Isak took Even's hand to drag him down the stairs and when he went to pull away they'd already walked a ways on the sidewalk. Even smiled at the lingered contact.

The apartment would have been neat if not for the bedroom set up in the living room. Sheets and blankets on the couch, a sloppily-folded stack of clothes in one corner, textbooks and notebooks on the coffee table. Empty glasses and plates and bowls on one end table, under which sat a haphazard pile of presumably dirty clothes. Even couldn't believe Isak had lived there for years in high school. It seemed like such a temporary arrangement even if it lasted a lot longer than a weekend's visit.

“Sorry, that's all my shit,” Isak said, then, without warning nor pause, yelled, “Linn?” as the door fell shut behind him.

“In here,” was the muffled reply from down the hall, and Isak started that way. Even didn't know what was expected of him so he followed.

Isak pushed open the bedroom door and hung inside. “Did you finish checking my essay?” he asked.

The girl was wearing a gray hoodie and gray sweatpants and sitting cross-legged on her bed, TV on her dresser playing _Parks and Rec_. “Yeah,” she said, eyes drifting over to Even with furrowed brows before looking back at Isak. “Looks good. I corrected some grammar and spelling, but you did okay before that, too.”

“Thanks,” Isak said with a relieved smile. “Owe you one.” He watched her eyes shift to Even again, and then looked over his shoulder at Even himself. “Even, this is Linn, my roommate. Linn, this is Even. I think I've... mentioned him.”

Her eyes widened in recognition and she nodded with a thoughtful hum, looking Even up and down. He felt scrutinized in the worst way. Everyone in Isak's life was so protective of the boy. Even couldn't imagine that Linn had been told wonderful things if Isak mentioned him before the Saturday they'd talked.

“Nice to meet you, Even,” she said, and it sounded like a warning. He'd definitely take it as one.

“You, too,” he choked out.

“We're going out to lunch,” Isak said, breaking the tension. “Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“No, I've gotta go into work,” Linn said. “Have fun. Be careful.”

“You sound like Eskild.” Isak backed out of the room and put his hand on the doorknob to pull it closed. “Bye, Linn.”

She gave him a wave and he closed the door, turning to face Even again. “I'll just submit that and then we can go. Where do you want to eat?”

He was leading Even back into the living room, sitting down on the couch and then pulling his laptop next to him.

“We could go to the cafeteria,” Even said. “Or that Chinese restaurant near campus?”

“The cafeteria sounds good,” Isak said, focused on his laptop.

“You don't like Chinese food?” Even asked. “That's kind of a deal breaker, Isak.”

“I had Chinese food last night,” Isak answered, looking up at him. He smiled. “But nice try.”

“I'll find something wrong with you, Valtersen,” Even said. “Just you wait.”

“Look at where I live at the moment,” Isak said, nodding at the room around them. “There's your deal breaker.”

But really, everything about Isak just made him _better_ to Even. He didn't have a steady place to live and he went out of control when he drank and he struggled with himself just like Even always had but he was perfect, and every flaw only made him better. Made him real. Made him human.

“You don't have any deal breakers,” Even said, as Isak finished his English essay submission and closed his laptop, looking up at Even with hair falling in his eyes.

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “You'd be the first person to think so.”

Even watched him, the forced smile, the eyes turned down to his twisting hands. This boy had been left more than anyone ever should, and he deserved it less than anyone could.

“No,” Even said softly, and Isak looked up at him. His eyes looked big like this. “You have so many people who think so.”

Isak smiled again, small and genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Even said, and then stood up and offered his hand. “Should we go?”

Isak's smile broadened and he took Even's hand as he stood with him. He laced their fingers together, and Even squeezed. They were close to each other, facing each other, and Isak gave one last squeeze and released him, leading him to the door.

Today they got lunch, and their feet touched beneath the table, and they didn't do anything more. They were being just friends. They were letting things progress. They were talking and laughing and learning and Even was falling deeper by the second. Tomorrow they'd get coffee, the day after they would study. On Friday they would text for hours and talk on the phone before bed. Isak would fall asleep on the other end and Even wouldn't want to hang up but he would, eventually.

  
+

On Saturday night, Even's house was empty. Yousef was cooking dinner for Sana in her apartment, Mutta was on a date, Adam was having dinner with his parents, and Elias and Mikael were at a party that the rest of them were supposed to meet at after their own engagements. And Even was making the most of this rare occurrence, because Isak was coming over. Isak was on his way over to his empty house and they were going to eat pizza and watch a movie and it was all going to be completely chill so why was Even freaking out so fucking much?

The pizza was on its way. Isak liked pepperoni so he ordered pepperoni because he wanted to always give Isak exactly what he wanted, even something so simple as toppings on a pizza.

It wasn't a _date_ , really, it was two friends hanging out because they'd decided to be friends and do this right. Take this slow like they hadn't before. And since it wasn't a date, Even was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes along the collar that was embarrassing him before Isak had even arrived. But it was the safest route after digging through his wardrobe for half an hour after his shower. Every outfit looked like he was trying too hard, considering they were going to do nothing but sit on the couch to eat pizza and watch movies. For fuck's sake, he was overthinking everything.

The knock on the door could be Isak or pizza but he opened with caution either way. He was tired of looking completely over-eager and out of control around Isak, even if that was how he felt at all times in his presence. He was getting better at embracing it to just the right amount, to show interest but not obsession.

Isak was standing in the doorway with flushed cheeks and his nose red from the biting wind he'd walked through to get there. “Hi,” he said with a smile, hands in his jacket pockets, looking up at Even and leaving him momentarily speechless. Hair was escaping from his beanie and his jacket was dusted in raindrops from the weather outside. “Can I come in?”

“Fuck, yeah, of course, sorry,” Even said, stepping aside and letting Isak into the warmth. “Let me hang up your jacket.” Isak shrugged off his coat and stepped out of his shoes and let Even organize the coatrack as he looked around.

“Cool place,” he said, walking curiously into the living room. He was wearing sweatpants that made Even feel better about his own outfit until he noticed how the material hugged his hips in a way that was going to torture him for hours.

“Yeah, we like it okay,” Even said, clearing his throat and trailing after him. Isak caught sight of one of the cats and smiled as he sat on the couch. His eyes moved up to Even and his smile broadened and Even wanted to faint.

“What are we watching?” he asked, laying his hand over the cushion next to him, and it felt like an invitation.

“ _Romeo + Juliet,_ ” Even said, taking his seat at Isak's side and picking up the remote on the coffee table. “I know how you feel about _Pretty Woman_ so I'm not going to subject you to it.”

Isak huffed and sank back into the couch cushions. “I don't understand how anyone can think the glorification of prostitution is a good premise for a movie. While prostitution's still unregulated it's not a happy story for the girls who work in it.” He looked up at Even's amused look and then down at his hands with a blush, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his fingers. “They shouldn't make it seem like it is.”

“You're fucking adorable,” Even said, and then couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he'd said that so freely.

“Wow, that was confident,” Isak said with a smirk, moving closer to him. The contact between their thighs made the words and the teasing plenty worth it.

“It's true,” Even said, gaining assuredness from the pink tint in Isak's cheeks and the way he wasn't pulling away. Isak never pulled away.

“You've said it before,” Isak reminded him, looking up and sticking his chin out in amused defiance. “I believe you said I'm hot and cute and pretty. This seems like a downgrade.”

“So every time I compliment you now I have to say you're hot and cute and pretty?” Even asked. “You're hard work.”

“You're supposed to say I'm worth it.”

“Of course you're worth it.”

“Start the movie, Even.”

“Whatever you say, Isak.”

When he turned back to face the television, Isak had a smile on his face and was leaning into Even's side, their shoulders touching all the way down their arms, their hips and thighs touching. Even told himself he'd gather the courage to take Isak's hand when he was properly distracted by the movie, and he actually kind of believed himself.

The movie started. Mikael had gotten it for him on DVD when they were in high school, a birthday present when he turned seventeen. But he didn't watch it as it opened, this time, he watched Isak. And Isak didn't let him get away with it for long before biting back a smile and pushing at Even's face until he was looking at the screen, too. Even smiled even brighter at having had Isak's hands on him, and Isak certainly realized it because Even saw him roll his eyes fondly from the corner of his vision.

He tried to focus on the movie, he really did. But the thing was that he'd seen this particular scene maybe a hundred times, while the vision of Isak watching the movie for the first time was a first for Even, too, and much more beautiful.

“Stop looking at me, Even, you're being a distraction,” Isak said, smiling without taking his eyes from the television screen.

“You're just too hot and cute and pretty for me to look away,” Even said, and Isak laughed as he turned to him again, eyes bright.

“You're ridiculous.”

“I know. I'm just hoping that's not a deal breaker.”

They were supposed to be friends. Friends who were progressing to more, but friends nonetheless.

This felt like more than friendship.

The doorbell rang and Even had to get up, his side losing the warmth that Isak's body had provided him.

“What kind did you get?” Isak called as Even walked to the door.

“Pepperoni,” Even called back, and opened the door, smiling at the delivery girl who looked like she resented Even entirely for ordering a pizza and making her deliver it. He didn't really blame her.

“I love pepperoni,” Isak said. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Even said with a smile, paying the girl after counting out his money. She shoved the pizza at him and left the porch with a mumbled, “Have a nice day.”

“Thanks,” Even tried to say, but she was already gone so he just closed the door.

“I brought something for you,” Isak said, scooting forward on the couch and looking up at Even with a smile.

“Yeah?” Even asked, setting the pizza box on the coffee table and sitting next to Isak as Isak nodded. Even moved close. He liked being close to Isak, and Isak didn't seem to mind it so much, either. “What'd you bring me?”

Isak produced a joint from his hoodie pocket and tucked it into Even's hand. “To make the pizza taste better. I know you don't like pepperoni as much as I do. Thank you for ordering it.”

“If I know you'll ply me with pot then I'll always give you whatever you want,” Even said.

Isak blushed, but said, “You should give me whatever I want anyways.”

Even smiled. “Anything. Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Pushover,” Isak muttered, smiling up at him and leaning into his side as Even pulled the pizza box onto his lap. “I brought a lighter. You said... you said it's okay for you to smoke every once in a while, yeah? I don't want to... you know. Mess anything up.”

Even smiled at him. He couldn't not. “You're cute,” he murmured, taking the lighter and concentrating on getting the flame to catch the rolling paper. He missed what was probably an eye roll or a blush or a combination of the two which was his favorite, but he got the green to catch and then held the joint out to Isak so he could take the first hit.

“Thanks,” Isak said, taking the joint between two fingers and bringing it to his lips. Even remembered the last time they did this and blushed, looking away from Isak's hollowed cheeks. He didn't need a boner while watching a movie with his just friend. Just friends aren't supposed to think of each other naked. Just friends aren't supposed to remember what the other looked like while giving the best blowjob in every universe.

“Here,” Isak said, and Even pulled his eyes to the offered joint and took it from Isak's hand. “Can I eat?”

“Go ahead,” Even said, opening the box on his lap before taking a drag. “Fuck, this stuff is nice,” he said on his exhale.

“From Mahdi again,” Isak said, leaning over Even to take his first bite of pizza so he didn't drop any onto the couch. “I'll get you some.” He took another bite and said with his mouth full, “Fuck, I love pepperoni. Are you going to start the movie again?”

“Yeah,” Even said, reaching for the remote. Isak was making motion difficult, hanging over Even's lap to spill into the pizza box instead of on his own lap, but there was too much going on at the moment to get up and get plates without it being a big production that he didn't want to bother with. He started the movie again and moved the pizza box so it was half on Isak's lap, passing the joint over. And they smoked and watched in silence, until the joint was gone and then the pizza and there was nothing else to distance them. Isak moved closer, and then so did Even. They were pressed together again, eyes trained on the TV, but Even was acutely aware of their points of contact, of the focused look in Isak's glazed eyes as he watched the movie with an observational engrossment.

When Juliet was on her balcony and Romeo was standing beneath, Isak leaned his head on Even's shoulder. At the wedding, Isak slipped his fingers between Even's, and Even held on.

“I'm cold,” Isak murmured.

“Really?” Even asked, eyes on the screen as the movie ended.

“Yes.”

“It's pretty warm in here.”

Romeo was laying next to Juliet's body and Isak was saying, “But I'm cold.”

Even smiled. “That's a shame.”

“You should probably do something about that.”

“I probably should.”

“It's called being a good host.”

Even glanced down at him but Isak's gaze was fixed on the screen. The camera was lifting. Even separated his hand from Isak's and placed his arm around his shoulders instead. Isak sank into his chest with a sigh, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt. “That was sad,” he said, softly and accusingly. “You didn't tell me it'd be sad.”

“Everyone knows it's sad,” Even said, watching the beginning of the credits.

“I thought there'd be a twist. Let's watch something happy.”

“Okay,” Even said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and taking the remote from the couch beside him. He exited out of the DVD settings and opened his Netflix account on the TV screen. “What do you want to watch?”

“I don't have your refined taste,” Isak said, and Even could _hear_ his eye roll. “You choose.”

“ _Pretty Woman_ is happy.”

“I'm not watching fucking _Pretty Woman_ , Even.”

Even smiled. “Fine. Something else.”

“Yeah. Something else.”

By the time they'd settled on _Talladega Nights_ , Isak had made himself comfortable against Even's chest and Even had pulled him consistently closer. As the movie opened Isak had hold of Even's free hand and was playing with his fingers, focused on the movie. Having Isak resting against him felt better than he ever could have thought. Holding him in this innocent way, without the rush towards more. Taking his time and memorizing him like he didn't do before. Doing it right. He was happy to be doing it right.

“Do you want anything?” Even asked, cheek pressed into Isak's hair. “Tea? Hot chocolate?”

“I'm okay like this,” Isak answered.

Even smiled. “Me too.”

“Are you comfortable?” Isak asked, peering up at him. He looked cute like that.

“I am. Are you?”

Isak nodded and looked back at the television. “Yeah. I am.”

At the end of _Talladega Nights_ Isak went to get a glass of water from the kitchen while Even set up _Silence of the Lambs._ He didn't really handle movies with any bit of scare in them well, but it was one of Mikael's favorites so it'd been sitting in its DVD case on the TV stand and Isak had asked if they could watch that next, and Even never wanted to deny Isak anything he asked. Even laid down on the couch and navigated the opening menu until Isak came back into the living room. He sat down, lifting Even's head and then pulling it back to his lap.

“Gonna protect me from Buffalo Bill?” Even asked, burrowing into the fabric of his sweatpants with a small smile, pressing play.

“You need me to?” Isak asked. He nestled a hand in Even's hair and Even wanted to fucking purr.

“Yeah,” Even said. “I hate Buffalo Bill. He freaks me the fuck out.”

“I think he's supposed to.” Isak smoothed Even's hair back and put his other hand on Even's chest. “But don't worry. I won't let him get to you.”

They'd been together for over four hours. Even didn't want Isak to leave.

Halfway through the movie Isak laid down with him, resting his head on Even's shoulder and looking at the television with tired eyes. His lids kept drooping, and he'd force them open again. Even rubbed his back with one hand and his arm with the other. Isak nudged his nose into Even's collarbone and hummed. “Are you trying to make me fall asleep?”

“Do you want to fall asleep?” Even asked softly, smiling against his hair.

“You're making me want to,” Isak murmured. “You're soft and warm and comfortable. But I can't sleep. In case Buffalo Bill comes.”

“How thoughtful.”

“If I sleep he'll get both of us instead of just you,” Isak said, turning his smile into Even's shirt. “And we wouldn't want that.”

“It'd sure be a waste,” Even agreed. “Someone so pretty.”

“So hot and cute and pretty,” Isak corrected.

Even smiled. “So hot and cute and pretty.”

“I missed you,” Isak said, so softly it would've been unnoticeable if they weren't already speaking. “I missed you so much more than I thought I would.”

“I missed you, too,” Even said, holding him tight with one arm across his shoulders and one around his waist. “God, Isak, so much.”

“But it's okay now, right?” Isak said, tightening his grip of Even's t-shirt. “We're okay?”

“I think we're better now than we would've been before,” Even said. “And I think we're going to be fucking great, baby.”

He felt Isak smile, heard it in his voice. “I think so, too.”

“Should we sit up so that you don't fall asleep?” Even asked, tapping on his shoulder to get him off of his chest. Isak sat and waited for Even to settle against the back of the couch before crossing his legs over Even's lap and running fingers through Even's hair.

“I could fall asleep like this, too,” he said, laying his head on Even's shoulder. “You're a good pillow. Very comfortable.”

“Well if I'm not good for anything else, at least I have that.”

Isak smiled. “At least you do.”

They were quiet and comfortable and sleepy and warm.

“Do you think your friends will like me?” Even asked.

Isak pulled back to look at him. “What?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“I mean, Elias and Yousef really like you, and it'd take nothing for you to charm over the other three, but you have so many people who care about you and I want them to think I can deserve you even if I never can.”

“Hey,” Isak said, brushing fingers through Even's hair. “Don't say that. I don't want you to say that.”

“It's true.”

“It's not. And it's not what just friends talk about.” Isak smiled and leaned his forehead against Even's temple. “We're taking this slow, remember? Doing it right? No stress, Even. You said that yourself.”

It wasn't slow, really, not by general terms. But it was slower than either of them had ever gone before. It was slow in that it wasn't rushed, it wasn't forced, they weren't giving terms and labels to things not fully developed yet. They were flirting and they were touching and they were getting closer and closer and closer with every day that passed, but it was a natural progression, it was an easy journey navigating their pasts individually and together. It was what would work, what was working. Even smiled and nudged his nose against Isak's.

“I like you, friend.”

Isak smiled back. “I like you, too.”

  
+

Things were wonderful after Saturday. They were perfect. The two never went long without seeing each other, they never spent much time apart. And when they did they were texting, sending pictures and memes and learning more and more every day, every minute. Even knew things about Isak now than he never had before, things he might never have, if they'd continued to rush. He loved it. He loved what they were doing now, even if it meant they didn't kiss and barely touched. Even if it meant they called each other just friends and had to pretend they weren't halfway in love when they were with their friends. It was worth it. This was better.

A cup of coffee was set in front of him on the library table and when Even looked up, there was Isak, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie with red flushed cheeks from the chill outside. He smiled. So did Even.

“Thank you,” Even said, pulling the to-go cup towards him. It smelled sickly sweet; the kinds of drinks Even loved and Isak hated. “You're the best. Truly my favorite.”

“Sana said you could use some support,” Isak said. “So here I am.”

“Is it that obvious that I need support?” Even asked weakly, looking down at his laptop. He'd been working on this project all week; he was editing the godawful film the rest of his group had made—the screenwriter needed practice and the camerawork was shaky at best. Even was trying to do his best to correct what he could; the terrible acting couldn't be helped and the script was what it was, but he could add in some of his own landscape shots and cut in the music at the right times and fix some of the issues the soundboard was encountering. This film class was the gateway into a more focused concentration of his final two years, and everyone was given a different role in each separate group project. Even had worked the camera first and directed second, and now he was editing and after this he would have to write a script. It was all exploratory; finding a loose passion in film to plant your focus in for the next two years. Even was so worried about having to pick a concentration that he hadn't taken the time to appreciate any of the roles he'd worked. He just stressed about it and overworked himself and worried endlessly about finding a direction to go down. He could graduate without a focus but that wouldn't be very helpful in finding a career.

“Everyone does sometimes,” Isak said, watching Even take a sip of the drink and moan at the taste. It was embarrassing but he was too tired to know that it was.

“You're my hero,” Even said. “Thank you. I owe you.”

“You don't owe me anything,” Isak said with a smile. “You'd do the same for me, I know you would.” He sat down across from him. “I'm going to study with you so that you don't work yourself to death over a dumb film project for a class you don't even like.”

Even smiled as Isak unloaded the contents of his backpack onto the tabletop. “Will you come back to mine after? I'll cook you dinner.”

Isak clicked his tongue and smiled at him. “Deal. I want pasta.”

Even clicked his tongue back. “Deal. I'll make pasta.”

It'd been like this for weeks. They were closer to finals than to midterms and they'd spent more time being just friends than they'd spent being anything more. It was perfect. It was slow and it was perfect.

They spent another hour in the library, knees knocking beneath the table and shared smiles when they both looked up long enough. Isak was working on an assortment of sciences and Even was trying to level the sounds coming through his headphones as the terrible actors recited their terrible script. And then he did it, and he watched the short film through once and twice without having to fix anything else, and he smiled as he emailed it to the rest of his group with a certain finality. Only one more of these godforsaken projects to go, and then he was free from the clutches of introductory film.

Isak smiled when Even told him he was done.

“Can I watch it?” he asked, leaning over the table eagerly.

“No way,” Even said with a scoff. “It's the worst short film in the world. No one's made a worse one.”

“You sound like a very confident film student,” Isak said. “I'm so proud.”

“I'm a great film student,” Even said. “My artistic vision just outshines that of my classmates.”

Isak snorted. “You're ridiculous. I want to watch it. I'm sure it's not that bad.”

“You can watch things I make next year,” Even said. “I'll have a concentration then. I'll be working with people who are serious about film instead of taking an easy liberal studies requirement. People who make it into the program. It'll be better.”

“I don't care if it's good, though,” Isak said. Almost whined. “I just want to see something you made. Is that too much to ask?”

“You're killing me,” Even groaned, then turned his laptop towards Isak and handed him the earbuds. Isak's smile was so bright and so worth the upcoming embarrassment.

Isak shoved the earbuds in and pressed play, watching intently. The film was only ten minutes long but to Even it felt like it lasted forever. He studied Isak's expressions but he wasn't giving anything away. He looked the same as he had when they'd watched movies together countless times before, unbothered by the way Even was staring.

When it finished Isak took the earbuds out and looked up at him. “I can't believe you turned that into something watchable,” Isak said, closing the laptop while looking into Even's eyes. “That writing and acting was shit but you made it so pretty to look at.” He smiled. “You're so good. I can't believe someone so good is my just friend.”

Even smiled, heart beating so hard. “I love being your just friend.”

“Me, too.” Isak stood up, shouldering his loaded backpack. “Come on. You promised me dinner.”

Even packed his backpack and stood up, too, following Isak to the library door. “Have you settled on a concentration?” Isak asked, looking over his shoulder at him as he opened the door.

“I have a meeting with my senior advisor next week,” Even said, and the reminder made his heart rate pick back up. He was so stressed. He was so close to having to declare, and he could change it later but he didn't want to have to. He wanted to do something he loved and he was terrified of making the wrong decision. He was always so terrified of that. He got a bit obsessive when he overthought. “He asked to meet with me. I don't know what that means. Sometimes they tell you that you should consider a different major option.”

“He won't tell you that,” Isak said, like it was so obvious.

“How do you know? Why else would he want to meet with me?”

“Maybe he notices how talented you are and wants to point you in the right direction,” Isak said, bumping into his side. “Don't stress. You think too much.”

He used to think he didn't think enough, and when he was younger, he didn't. But with everything that went to shit his final year of high school he stopped with the recklessness. His diagnosis changed everything. Everything became calculated and careful so that he didn't mess up again. So that he didn't have an episode, so that he didn't do something dangerous if he was.

“You said you want to do something in art,” Isak said. “And I think you should. I think you'd be great.”

If anyone was home they weren't making themselves known; they'd been blessedly scarce for the past few weeks as Isak came over more. It was easy to cook with Isak sitting on the counter at his side, easy to eat with his legs thrown over his lap on the couch. Easy to talk and laugh and watch TV and sit together after, Isak's head on his shoulder and their fingers intertwined in his lap. They let themselves have this at times like this, alone and together and without discussion or overthought. They found each other without issue, they touched without thought. It was only now, it was only in private. And that was okay. Even turned to press a kiss into Isak's hair and they watched British cooking shows and they didn't think too much about anything. They were doing what felt right, what felt natural. Being with Isak like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Isak fell asleep on his shoulder at eleven. Even waited thirty minutes before waking him up as gently as he could. “Hey, baby,” he whispered as Isak opened his eyes. “It's late. You're tired.”

“Mm,” Isak said in response, rubbing against his shoulder once before sitting up on his own and looking at Isak with tired eyes. “I don't know if I'll make it home on the tram. Can you call me an Uber? I'll pay you back.”

“With what?” Even asked softly, matching Isak's quiet tone. “Surely not money.”

“How's psychology tutoring sessions and bad jokes?” Isak said with a tired smile.

Even smiled back, kissed his nose so Isak would scrunch it up like he did so cutely. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asked carefully. They'd never broached this subject before. “You can borrow some of my clothes for class tomorrow. Use our shower. Whatever you want.”

Isak just smiled. “Yeah. I'd like that.”

Even had expected a bit more of a fight, a few, “Isak, you won't make it home awake,”s and, “I'll sleep on the couch or my bedroom floor, you take my bed, baby,”s, but there was none of it needed. Isak let Even lead him upstairs to the room he'd been spending more and more time in as the weeks passed. Isak wasn't shy. He stripped himself of his sweatpants and fell into bed in his boxers and t-shirt. The side he'd slept on the night they'd spent together. Even took off his jeans and joined him, trying not to feel too much. This was different. Tonight was different.

He turned the lamp off. He rolled onto his side to face Isak and found him already looking back. “Hi,” he whispered, and Isak moved closer.

“You didn't hold me right the last time,” he said. “You have to hold me right tonight.”

So Even did. He moved close, he wrapped Isak up in his arms, let Isak burrow into his neck. Heard him sigh and hum and felt the heat of his body against his own. “Goodnight, babe,” he whispered into Isak's hair.

“Goodnight, Even,” Isak whispered back.

“Sleep,” Even said. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll my film school reference is just complaints from a good friend of mine who goes to film school. i don't know how film school works. i'm pre-med which is somehow the farthest one can be from film school.
> 
> also, i haven't watched romeo + juliet since ninth grade when we watched it in english class so my timeline might be off, there, and i've literally never seen talladega nights but my friend won't stop talking about lately, so that's why it's in there. the only movie i actually enjoy that i wrote about is silence of the lambs. not that these are important pieces of information.
> 
> my tumblr is @supermansplaining and you're welcome to talk to me there :)


	7. Gabrielle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god finally  
> i'll apologize right off the bat for how long this is. i just couldn't seem to find a good place within it to separate it into two chapters, so it's like 28k. sorry :( it's kind of ehhh but it's done so !!!  
> thanks so much for all your kudos and comments, they mean the world. thanks for reblogging the links on tumblr too, if you do that :)   
> i really had fun writing this for ya'll so i hope you enjoy!

 

**ISAK**

“Isak's here!” Eva squealed, sloshing wine out of the bottle as she stumbled through the crowd to hug him tight around the neck. “How'd you get Isak here?”

She was asking Jonas, probably, but close to spilling wine down the back of Isak's shirt while shouting directly into his ear. He separated them and moved her into Jonas's arms instead.

“It didn't take a lot of convincing,” Mahdi told her, shouting above the music. “Even texted him and said he'd be here and that was that.”

Isak would argue against the implications that he did _anything_ that Even wanted if it wasn't the truest statement in the world. He hadn't seen Even in a few days; they were both busy with their schoolwork and the only thing keeping them in contact was the phone. It felt like withdrawal after spending every second together for weeks. But finals were imminent which was important to Isak and Even was stressed about film class even though he'd had an extraordinarily good meeting with his senior advisor that had Isak gushing his pride over the phone for an hour.

He'd said no when Jonas and Magnus and Mahdi asked him to go to a party with them, and then walked back his words when Even asked that same night, because he missed him so, so much. It was actually ridiculous how much he missed him. A connection through the phone wasn't good enough after all the time he'd spent in Even's arms over the past few weeks.

“He couldn't give a fuck that we're here,” Mahdi said.

“I'm the one that sent Isak the note Even left,” Magnus said. “I should be getting more thanks than I've gotten.”

“I'm the one that found the note,” Vilde said, arms wrapped around Magnus.

“He's not listening to any of you,” Chris said.

He wasn't. He was looking around the room trying to find the man of his dreams, who was hidden in the crowd and not texting him back.

“He'd listen if Noora were here,” Mahdi said.

“Or Sana,” Jonas added, holding Eva protectively against his chest and rubbing her back as she mumbled into his shirt. “I think I'm gonna take Eva home now.”

“Dude!” Magnus said, arm across Vilde's shoulders. “You just got here! You were gonna be my wingman!”

“I'll be your wingman, baby,” Vilde said with a bright smile. “Let's go find you a pretty girl.”

“Let's go find _you_ a pretty girl,” Magnus said, kissing the side of her head.

“Bye Jonas, bye Eva,” Vilde said with a wave. “I'll see you back at the apartment later tonight, I'll try not to wake anyone up.”

“Have fun tonight ladies and gentlemen,” Magnus said, giving a salute as he was hauled off into the crowd.

“Isak,” Eva said, grabbing his t-shirt collar and pulling hard. He stumbled into her.

“Hi, Eva,” he said.

“Are you still staying at Noora's?” she slurred.

“Yeah, I am. It's really good, actually, it's nice being home.” He smiled at her, and then felt a kiss on his cheek from behind and a month ago he would have spun out and punched someone but now he just smiled. He turned around and looked up into Even's eyes, a little hazy, hair falling in his gaze.

“Hi,” he said, brushing back Even's hair from his forehead. He was drunk, or well on his way. He had the biggest dopey grin on his face. It was so fucking adorable.

“I missed you,” Even said, pulling him in by the waist, pressing his forehead against Isak's temple. “I haven't seen your pretty face in so long.”

“You're cute,” Isak said, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I missed you too.”

“Come stand over there,” Even said, pointing somewhere behind him. “It's cold by the door.”

“Okay,” Isak agreed with a firm nod to match the seriousness of Even's expression. “We'll go over there.”

“Hey, sexy,” Chris said, saluting to Even while chewing on a straw floating in a bottle of red wine. “If you get tired of this stud, I'm here.”

“I'll never get tired of him,” Even answered, arms around Isak's waist. “But you're super beautiful, too.” He kissed behind Isak's ear and said, “Chris helped me text you that time.”

Isak didn't know what he was talking about but Even was already distracted burying his face in the crook of Isak's neck. Isak rolled his eyes fondly and looked up at Jonas who was bodily supporting Eva's drunken weight.

“I'll see you later, bro,” Jonas said, raising his eyebrows in amusement at their shared burdens, shifting Eva against his chest. “Have a good time tonight. I'll text you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, totally. Bye Eva.”

“Bye, Isak, I love you to the moon and back,” Eva screamed, then let Jonas lead her to the door. “I want McDonald's, Jonas,” she said, looking up at him.

“We'll get you some McDonald's, babe, don't worry,” Jonas said, rubbing her back as she flung her arms around his neck and walked haphazardly out the door with him.

Isak turned back to Even and cupped his cheeks and watched his face light up in a smile. “I'm all yours, Even.”

“All night?” Even asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Isak said.

“Let's go over there,” Even said again, like Isak was supposed to know what the fuck he was talking about.

“Okay,” Isak said, taking Even's hand in his. “Take me wherever you want, babe.”

Even pulled him into a corner of the living room, passing Yousef and Mikael and Elias and Adam and Mutta and managing a quick wave before Even dragged him past. Since spending so much time in Even's house, Isak had gotten to know them reasonably well. Usually in compromising positions like with Even asleep on his chest on the couch, or the two of them standing way too close together for just friends while Even forced him to dance to Gabrielle.

“How are you tonight?” Isak asked when Even was seemingly happy with their position within the living room.

“Drunk,” Even said. “Isak I missed you so much. Just friends don't miss each other this much.”

“I missed you, too, Even,” Isak said with a placating smile, threading fingers through Even's hair. “It's okay. Just friends can do whatever they want.”

“I'm sorry I've been busy,” Even said, wrapping Isak up in his arms.

“Don't be sorry,” Isak said, hugging him back. “You've been working so hard. I'm so proud of you. Can't wait to date the shit out of you, Bech Næsheim.”

He didn't know what was stopping them, really, they were already doing everything that couples did, except for the kissing and the sex. The intimacy was so deeply ingrained in everything else they did that Isak barely noticed that anything was lacking. He was falling in love with Even, quickly and consumingly, and that was enough. Labels didn't matter, the idea of sex still felt rushed. They called each other friends because that was the best thing they'd been. It was the easiest. And if it was working, and working so well, he didn't see why they should change it.

Isak fetched Even drinks from the kitchen and lit his cigarettes for him when they made their way to the back porch. Sober Even was consciously unaware that Drunk Even smoked tobacco in front of Isak. Sober Even thought it was still a secret. And Isak planned on asking him to quit for the sake of his health, but it was still really cute that he thought he was being sneaky.

He hadn't been around this much alcohol since the party he went to with Kristian, but it wasn't tempting like it usually was. Even was a needy distraction and Isak didn't want anything separating him from this experience.

“Do you ever want kids?” Even asked, from the corner of the porch. They were the only two out there. Isak was leaning over the edge and looking into the flower garden below. He turned around at Even's words and leaned back against the railing.

“I don't know,” he said. “It's always been a little bit scary.”

“Scary?” Even asked. “Kids are scary?”

Isak shrugged. “Being a dad would be scary. My dad was shit at it. I wouldn't know how to be good at it.” He walked towards Even. “You pregnant?” he asked, laying his hands on Even's abdomen and smiling when Even did. “You're a little drunk for that, don't you think?”

“I think you'd be a good dad,” Even said, grabbing the hem of Isak's shirt and reeling him in. “And if I was pregnant that'd be a pretty baby.” He slid his arms around Isak's waist and buried his face in Isak's shoulder as Isak hugged him around his neck. He smelled like cigarettes and Isak normally hated that but this was Even and he was asking him about babies and fatherhood and it felt like a future. Not a future he was ready for, or one he was being promised, but one he hadn't thought about in years, one that was full of potential. He and Even were not at a point where they should be discussing children, not even close, but Even made him think of the future in a way that didn't scare him.

“I think you'd be a good dad, too,” Isak said, hugging him. “I think you'd be great.”

When Even asked him stuff like this Isak knew it wasn't a concrete thought, a plan, a promise. It was just a question, no intent behind it. There wasn't pressure, it was just to learn. Even loved to learn about Isak, and Isak loved it, too. He wasn't used to the desire to open up.

“Maybe start with a cat that doesn't hate you, first,” Isak suggested, and Even smacked his ass as he laughed because it was one of the only body parts that he could reach.

They were taking this chill, they weren't rushing anything. And it was perfect. Isak had had few relationships in his life that required this little work. It was so natural to spend every minute with Even; he didn't have to make time for it. Even when they hadn't seen each other for a week, it was okay. They weren't distant, nothing had changed. It just made the reunion sweeter.

“I really like you,” Even said. “And I'm really cold. And tired.”

“You want me to take you home?” Isak asked, brushing hair out of Even's eyes. Even nodded, bottom lip jutted out just a little bit, and Isak had been half in love for the past few weeks and that just made him fall a little more. “I'll take you home, babe,” Isak said softly, smiling at him.

Even stopped him twice during the walk from the back door to the front, downing three shots in succession at the kitchen counter and then wandering into the living room to hug Yousef.

“I love you, Yousef,” he said, as Elias patted his back.

“Love you, too, buddy,” Yousef said. Yousef was always the most composed in any setting, and usually Even was a close second. Isak liked it when Even let himself lose some of that control; he put so much pressure on himself sometimes, to be stable and sound and mentally in control of his disorder, that he wouldn't cut himself slack. Isak liked to see him trust himself enough to give in for a little bit. He liked that he trusted Isak to take care of him.

“We should probably get you home,” Mikael said.

“Isak's taking me home,” Even said, pulling back from Yousef to smile dopily. “He's taking me home and we're gonna watch TV and not have sex because we're just friends.”

Isak blushed bright red as Even ambled over and draped himself around him. Even's roommates noticed him for the first time and all of them smiled as they nodded their greetings.

“Just friends,” Mutta said, clicking his tongue. “Heard that before.” He clapped Even on the back. “Have a good night, buddy, drink water. Be safe. We'll be home late.”

“Love you, man,” Adam said, patting his head, almost as far gone as Even was but not quite. This was the first time Even had let himself have a night out in weeks; he'd been so distracted and stressed that he hadn't given himself the time. Isak understood that. “Have fun. Not too much fun.” He winked at Isak. “You're just friends.”

Isak rolled his eyes and flipped him off. He felt a lot more comfortable around the roommates than he'd ever thought he would, just because of the sheer amount of time he spent around them. They'd seen him at his most vulnerable because any time he was around Even he allowed himself to be that way.

“I'll have fun,” Even said, then took Isak's hand and dragged him away without saying anything else. Isak smiled and followed him out the door, steadying him as they put on their jackets and walked down the porch steps.

“Tram's not far,” Isak said. “We can make it, right?”

“Yeah,” Even said distractedly, twirling a strand of Isak's hair around his finger as they started to walk. “I like your hair so much, Isak,” he said seriously.

“I like your hair, too,” Isak said with a laugh, holding Even's hand tighter.

“I know you do,” Even said. “I wear it down because you like me to.”

Isak didn't know that but it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. He thought that a lot when Even spoke to him, especially Drunk Even, who disclosed things that Sober Even wouldn't. “You're sweet, Even.”

Even just hummed as the tram pulled up, and Isak had to help him up the steps and into the seat as he stumbled around, long limbs flailing everywhere.

“I want pizza,” Even whined when they'd been seated for a few minutes.

“Okay, we'll get pizza,” Isak placated, carding fingers through his hair. “I'll make you one of your frozen pizzas when we get back to yours and we can smoke and watch TV. Okay?”

“I don't have pepperoni,” Even said. “We have to get pepperoni.

“Even, you don't even like pepperoni,” Isak said with a fond smile.

“But you do and I want you to be happy so you'll stay the night.”

Isak rocked forward to kiss his cheek. “I'll stay the night with or without pepperoni pizza, Even. I promise.”

“I only have cheese.”

“That's okay. I like cheese pizza, too.”

“But not as much as you like pepperoni pizza,” Even pouted.

“No, but that's okay. It's really, really okay.” He smiled at how put out Even looked by this. “Don't frown like that, it's fucking adorable and sad.”

“I'm tired, Isak,” Even said, changing the topic completely.

“I know, baby,” Isak said, touching his cheek and glancing past him out the window. “Look, here's our stop. You can be in bed real soon.”

Even planted himself face down on the sofa as Isak tried to get him out of his jacket and shoes and Isak just huffed a laugh and preheated the oven. “Even, baby,” he said, sitting on the floor beside his head. Even turned his head to the side to look at him. “Can you please take your jacket off? And you shouldn't have shoes on your couch, Yousef is really anal about that stuff.”

Even smiled drunkenly at him and tapped his nose with one finger.

“You're so weird,” Isak said with a smile, moving to pull off Even's shoes himself. “What do you want to watch tonight?”

“ _Malcolm in the Middle_ ,” Even mumbled.

“ _Malcolm in the Middle,_ really?” Isak asked. “I don't think that's on Netflix anymore.”

Even pouted and Isak pouted back. “I wish I could change it for you, Even, I really do,” he said with a smile, setting his shoes on the floor and scooting back up to his head to stroke his hair. “I'm sure we can find something else.”

Even thought for a minute, brows furrowing, and then lit up and said, “Will you watch _30 Rock_ with me?”

“Sure I will. Let's go into the kitchen.”

“Mm,” Even said, sitting up. “Pizza, right?”

“I'll put it in the oven now,” Isak said, smiling. “But you need to drink water. Because you're gonna have a hangover, and that won't be very fun to deal with tomorrow. Water will make you feel better.”

Even followed Isak into the kitchen and sat on the counter as Isak filled him up a glass of water and handed it over. Isak knelt to put the pizza in the oven and set a timer on his phone for fifteen minutes before letting himself be pulled between Even's thighs and hugged. He didn't mind how touchy Even got when he was drunk. It was only slightly more touchy than he was while sober.

“You're so much taller on the counter,” Isak said, hugging him back. “Why are you so tall, Even, you're hard to reach way up there.”

“Keeps you farther away from my lips,” Even said. “So you can't kiss me like I know you want to.”

“Do I?” Isak asked, pulling back but keeping his hands on Even's thighs. “You think you're that irresistible?”

“I know I am,” Even said. “So I've gotta stay way up here so you can't get too tempted.”

“You're a dork,” Isak said as he laughed. “And you're so drunk.”

“ _You're_ so drunk,” Even said, leaning back against the kitchen cabinets like he'd just proven a point.

“Okay,” Isak said, brushing Even's hair away from his face. “You're adorable.”

“I'm tired, Isak,” Even said, catching Isak's hand and holding it against his cheek. Isak stroked his thumb along his cheekbone and smiled. “I'm hungry.”

“I know. You've mentioned that,” Isak said.

“How much longer?”

Isak peered around him to look at his phone's timer. “Ten minutes,” he answered.

“Isak,” Even whined.

“Well it's not _my_ fault,” Isak said with a laugh.

“Everything takes so long,” Even said. “This pizza. You.”

“I take a long time?” Isak asked, letting his hands rest on Even's thighs again. Even twisted their fingers together and looked down at him.

“I've wanted to date you since the first day of school and we're here eight months later and we're just friends and we're not dating.”

He didn't sound upset about it. Drunk Even's conversation consisted mostly of observations.

“I thought you liked being just friends with me,” Isak teased, squeezing his hands between his own. “I like being just friends with you.” Just friends could mean whatever they wanted it to mean, because no label worked for what they were, and they didn't need one anyways.

“I love being just friends with you,” Even said, kissing the back of Isak's hand. He looked sleepy and it made Isak feel things. Being near Even in any state made him feel things, different things, all of them good. He got frustrated with Even when they were both tired and cranky and stressed, and they argued and then they made up with apologies and they spooned on the couch. Things ended well, always, and Isak was still getting used to having such a functional relationship. Every boy he'd been with before had been for one night only, and he'd forced his expectations heavy handedly. The expectations that he'd lived with since his father left; he knew he'd be disappointed and let down, so he didn't let himself hope. He was letting himself again. Even was helping him.

“Isak,” Even said after a few minutes, and Isak hummed in acknowledgment. “How much longer?”

Isak looked at his phone. “Four minutes.”

Even considered this, then said, “I gotta pee.”

“Go ahead, Even,” Isak answered.

“Okay. I'll be back.” He kissed Isak's cheek as he hopped clumsily from the counter and set his feet unsteadily beneath him on the linoleum floor.

“Hope so,” Isak said, smiling as Even winked poorly at him.

“Soon.” Even disappeared around the corner and Isak turned on the oven light to look inside. Something meowed at his feet and he looked down at the cat there. The cat looked back. Isak narrowed his eyes at it. He'd been over enough to know that Mikael's cats were not to be trusted, but he'd never actually had the opportunity to interact with one. They enjoyed scrambling in the opposite direction as soon as any human being came near them as if their lives were in mortal danger. He knelt down and picked it up and braced himself for the claws that never came. He pet the cat with one hand and supported it against his chest with his other arm, and when he straightened back up Even was staring at him with big eyes from the doorway.

“You tamed Costanza,” Even said.

“He's just a cat, Even.”

“He's purring. I've never heard him purr before.”

“Your cat has never been happy enough to purr?” Isak asked.

“Not when I'm around. This is making me like you so much, Isak, you don't even understand how hot this is.”

“I don't really want to deal with a cat kink, Even,” Isak teased, letting the cat scamper back onto the floor. He let Even tug him in by his belt loops, tucked himself against Even's chest as Even's arms went around him.

“It's so fucking hot when you care,” Even said.

“You're so fucking hot all the time.”

“So are you. Hot and cute and pretty.” Isak smiled into his shirt. “But even hotter when you're holding the cat and looking the way you look and being all sweet. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone, probably.”

The phone's timer went off and Isak wanted to ignore it and kiss this boy, this boy who called him beautiful and let him sleep in his bed, this boy who got drunk and thought only of Isak, this boy who cared about him in a way that Isak hadn't thought someone could. But he pulled back to grab the dishtowel and remove the cookie sheet he'd baked on. He pulled back because he was close to saying things that scared him, things he meant but maybe not completely. He and Even were both so desperate for love. He didn't want that desire to get in the way of the two of them, to dictate a future between them. He wanted to love Even for Even, not for the idea of him. He wouldn't kiss him until he was sure that it was for the right reasons.

“The pizza cutter's in the drawer to your left,” Even said, and Isak took it out and cut it clumsily into eight pieces, transferring them onto a different plate and smiling proudly at Even. This was pretty much the extent of his abilities in the kitchen but Even was always so grateful when Isak correctly heated frozen foods or made a good over easy egg, he acted like Isak was the smartest culinary genius in the world.

“Ready?” Isak asked, holding out his hand for Even to take. Even did. He always would.

Isak picked out clothes for the two of them to change into as Even sat on his bed and concentrated hard on typing in his laptop password. It was unbearably cute.

“Here,” Isak said, passing a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt to Even. Even was always cold. He smiled up at Isak and fumbled off his hoodie and t-shirt to change, frowning at the folds of the clean shirt until Isak straightened it out for him and handed it back. He exchanged his own clothes for Even's, clothes that smelled like Even's laundry detergent and were dusted in cat hair, a t-shirt he'd seen Even wear a dozen times and a pair of sweatpants too big for both of them, with a hem that dragged on the floor. Even worked his way beneath the covers and Isak turned on the bedside lamp so he could flick off the overhead light.

“Come to bed, baby,” Even said, opening the blankets for him. Isak crawled in beside him, cast in a comfortable glow, cozy and warm and pressed against Even's side. He pulled the pizza between them, handed Even the water bottle he'd brought upstairs, and kissed the ball of Even's shoulder.

“ _30 Rock_?” he asked, looking at Even and smiling.

Even pressed play and settled back against the pillows. “ _30 Rock,_ ” he agreed, and Isak kissed his cheek with a smile.

  
+

Isak mostly spent time at Even's house, because Even had a door that closed and a room that wasn't a communal space that every other roommate had to pass through to get anywhere else in the house. But the few times that Even had been over to the kollektiv, Isak had been completely unprepared for it. It was always last-minute stops on the way to somewhere else; picking up his forgotten laptop, picking up his forgotten wallet, picking up his forgotten cell phone, on the way to lunch or dinner or the movies.

This time, though, Isak had _consciously_ invited him over to hang out, and he was questioning that decision with every approaching minute towards six o'clock. He had thought that Eskild was going to be out pregaming with friends, but as soon as Isak started cleaning the living room he postponed his plans. He was more eager to meet Even than he was to get drunk or get laid, apparently, because he fished himself a beer from the fridge and settled down at the kitchen table to watch Isak tidy his area.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” Isak asked, holding two handfuls of clothes that he had nowhere to put.

“Noora's met Even, Linn's met Even, I'm the only one who hasn't met Even,” Eskild said.

“There's a very deliberate reason for that,” Isak said.

“Afraid I might steal him?” Eskild asked.

Isak folded up his clothes and tried to pack them all under one of the end tables so they were relatively out of view. “Don't even try,” he said.

“Wow, that's pretty possessive for someone you refuse to date.”

“I _am_ dating him,” Isak huffed, and then blushed because he'd never said that out loud and he wasn't aware that he'd ever actually thought it, either. He definitely shouldn't have said it to Eskild.

Eskild raised his eyebrows with a slow smile. “You _are,_ are you?”

“I didn't mean to say that,” Isak said. “I just got... defensive. Don't try to steal my--” _boyfriend_ , his brain supplied, but if he couldn't say they were dating, which they might have been, really, if they bothered to slap a label on it, then he certainly couldn't say that Even was his boyfriend. “Even,” he finished, finally. “He's mine.”

“Relax,” Eskild said. “From what Noora told me, there's no chance he has eyes for anyone but you.”

“Damn right,” Isak muttered, stacking his textbooks along the wall so that they weren't splayed over the coffee table. He carried his trash bag of dirty laundry and deposited it in Eskild's room, to have it out of the way, and was washing the dishes in the kitchen sink when Even knocked.

Eskild was out of his seat at the speed of light as Isak yelled, “Don't you fucking dare, Eskild!” But his hands were wet and he was holding two plates and a dishtowel and there was no way he could get to the door first. He dropped the plates hastily just as Eskild swung the front door open with gusto.

“Hello, handsome,” he heard, and Isak closed his eyes for a moment because if Even still thought that his friends were the embarrassing ones, that wouldn't be the case after Eskild got a good word in. “Come on into our _abode_ , baby Jesus is waiting for you.”

He dried his hands off and left the dishtowel on the kitchen counter and was turning around when Even walked in. He smiled. Even was already smiling back, laden down with two paper takeout bags. Eskild was right behind him, winking at Isak over Even's shoulder.

“Hi,” Isak said, smiling at him.

Even set the bags down on the counter and walked over to kiss his forehead. “Hey,” he answered. A throat cleared over his shoulder and Isak rolled his eyes as he pushed Even away from him, hands falling from his waist.

“Even, this is Eskild, my roommate,” Isak said, gesturing to Eskild.

“And guru,” Eskild said, then nodded for Isak to continue.

“And Eskild this is Even. My....” He glanced up at Even and blushed, then turned back to Eskild. “This is Even.”

“Nice to meet you,” Even said. “I've heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise, pretty boy, this one only talks about you and biology.”

“That's not true,” Isak told Even, who just smiled brightly down at him and edged him closer to the counter behind him.

“You talk about me?” he asked, caging Isak in. Isak could only roll his eyes at him, fighting down a smile.

“All bad things,” Isak said, tipping his chin up and smiling as Even pouted. “What'd you bring me?”

Even backed up and started unloading the contents of the takeout bags. “I know you said to get either lo mein or orange chicken but I got you both and I got you egg rolls.”

“Really?” Isak asked, going to stand next to him. He looked from the containers back to Even. “Thank you.”

“Can't have you going hungry, can we?” Even asked.

Isak spent all of his money on Even, which was ridiculous, because he had rent to contribute to, and food to buy. He'd made fifteen dollars fetching groceries for the elderly neighbor next door, and promptly spent it all on a pizza when he was at Even's house. He'd made thirty dollars tutoring and treated Even to a movie in the theaters with popcorn and candy, and McDonald's afterwards. The ten bucks he'd found in the laundromat one deserted Sunday went to cheap new headphones because Even had lost his. And these contributions were small in comparison to what Even did for him—lunches and dinners and movies and coffees—but it was what he could offer, and Even completely lit up at the gestures. Even told him not to worry about the money spent because he had his parents' financial support in a way Isak didn't and probably never would. Even tried to be sneaky about taking care of some of Isak's expenses; if they had leftover pizza Even always wrapped it up for Isak to take home, and if Even was buying takeout he always bought way too much so that Isak could live off of the leftovers for a week. He was sweet and didn't want Isak to find offense in anything he did. Isak had been letting other people pay his way for years, and he was just now getting used to it as something people didn't mind doing.

In high school he hated having Magnus give him money for lunch, or having Jonas pay for kebab when Isak was the one who suggested they go. He felt guilty for not paying rent in the kollektiv and he felt worse for taking up an entire room of Eva's without contributing anything to help her with the expenses. But now he was starting to see that people didn't mind it. Jonas would always, _always_ , take care of him, in any way possible. Eskild only wanted the best for him, and Linn didn't want a job to take the focus away from his studies, because they'd worked so hard to get him to go to college at all. Eva wanted company and she wanted love and Isak was a constant provider of both. She didn't mind paying the rent of a two bedroom for both of them, because she had the money either way, and it was better to pay both and have a roommate who loved her than pay both and be alone, or half and _feel_ alone.

Even did so much for him, did everything for him, not because he felt obligated to but because he wanted to. He _wanted_ Isak to have good food, he _wanted_ Isak to see this movie with him. He wasn't paying because Isak needed to eat and this was the only way he would, or because Isak really wanted to see a movie and didn't have the cash for it. It wasn't a loan between two vague friends, it was being taken care of in the best way, the way that Isak was slowly getting used to. In other ways, he took care of Even right back. Contributed to the flat in other ways, contributed to his friends in ways that must have made them think he was worth it to keep hanging around.

“Do you want any Chinese food, Eskild?” Even asked, looking over his shoulder. Eskild was standing by the kitchen table, collecting his things. Isak narrowed his eyes at him, daring him to say yes.

“No, thank you,” Eskild said. “I have a predrink to go to and a Grindr guy to fuck. Very nice meeting you, though, _Even_.”

“Don't say his name like that,” Isak said.

“Like what?” Eskild asked, all faux-innocence.

“In your seduction voice. I know that voice. You use that voice on boys and then you turn on _The Lion King_ soundtrack and then you have loud sex that I have to listen to because I sleep in the living room.”

“That sounds like a fun night,” Eskild said, winking at Even.

“Stop it,” Isak said.

“Have fun, boys,” Eskild sang, and slinked out the front door, letting it slam closed behind him like he always did.

And then they were alone. Linn was having dinner with her sister and her kids and Noora was at Chris and Sana's. It was so rare to get time when they were truly alone instead of just closed into a bedroom with five other people wandering around outside the door. Isak turned back to Even and found him already looking down at him. Even's smile widened.

“Hi,” Isak said, turning and leaning against Even's chest, wrapping his arms around Even's waist. Even tucked himself around Isak, arms around his shoulders, and murmured, “Hey,” into his hair.

“How was your day?” Isak asked. Even's t-shirt was soft beneath his cheek, over-washed and worn. Comfortable like Even was.

“Good,” Even said. His cheek was against the side of Isak's head. “I got some homework done, I went grocery shopping.”

“Your classes were good?”

“They were fine,” Even said. “I'm ready for them to be over. I'm ready for this semester to end.”

“You only have two more years after this,” Isak said. “And then you'll be a filmmaker, baby.”

“I'll more likely be a convenience store cashier,” Even said, “but yeah. Two more years.”

“You'll be a filmmaker,” Isak said with an eye roll that Even wasn't able to see. “I know you will. And you'll do great at it, and you'll dedicate them all to me, and I'll get to see the cuts before they go to the theater.”

He was so proud of Even, and it was kind of ridiculous. Even hadn't really done more than complete a few intro film courses and then panic over his future, but Isak was unbelievably proud of him. He watched all the little films Even had on his laptop, ones from high school and ones from college. The ones that were completely Even's were the best, while the group work lagged a bit, but Isak picked out Even's role in the making of the movie and fixated on how good that part was, especially compared to the work of his classmates.

“Want to eat?” Isak asked, shifting to look up at him. Even smiled down at him and nodded, but they didn't release each other for a long time after they made the decision to.

Finally Isak took the responsibility and removed himself from Even's front. He pulled over two stools to the countertop and got a fork for Even because he couldn't use chopsticks. Even had unpacked six containers from the takeout bags and was peeling the tops back from all of them.

“I've always wanted a sugar daddy,” Isak said, sitting down at the counter and pulling the box of broccoli beef towards him. “And this is easier than I ever thought it'd be. I don't even have to do anything.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm kind of a pushover,” Even said with a smile, sitting next to him.

“Usually people have to put out before they have someone paying for their meals and buying them presents,” Isak said.

“Well you did once,” Even said, smiling and dragging the box of pork dumplings towards himself. “That was enough for me.”

“I could get used to this,” Isak said, picking at one of Even's dumplings with his chopsticks. “Having a sugar daddy.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Even said, “because after I graduate my parents stop paying for shit and I'm on my own with a film degree.”

“Well, then it's my turn to be the sugar daddy,” Isak said. “I'll take over until you become successful, and then we can trade off sugar daddy responsibilities.”

“That's a perfect plan,” Even said with a smile. “You're an innovator, babe.”

“I bought ice cream,” Isak said. “Strawberry. Your favorite, right?”

“You're the best,” Even said.

“Are you kidding? _You're_ the best, you bought me so much Chinese food and you buy me Cheetos all the time and you let me stay at your house since I don't have a bedroom. You're amazing, Even, I'm so lucky to have you.”

“I'm lucky to have you, too,” Even said, beaming with pride and happiness and something akin to love. Isak felt it every day, felt it geared from Even towards himself, felt it so deeply inside himself whenever he looked back. They were still cautious but the feelings were making themselves harder and harder to ignore.

They finished their dinner and Even helped rearrange the fridge so that the takeout would fit and the door would close. They huddled under a blanket on the couch—Isak's bed—eating ice cream with two spoons and watching _Mindhunter_ on Eskild's Netflix account.

“This is like _Silence of the Lambs_ ,” Isak said against Even's shoulder. “I love _Silence of the Lambs._ ”

“I know you do,” Even said, kissing the top of his head. They allowed themselves that and little more. It was enough. It was so much more than Isak had ever hoped for, and it was with _Even_ , the best person it could be with.

They shifted to lay down a little while later, when the ice cream carton was tucked back into the freezer and sitting up on the couch for two hours had gotten uncomfortable. It was a small couch that Isak didn't really fit on lying down on his own, and with both of them there it should have been even less comfortable. But it wasn't. Even was lying behind him with an arm around his waist and one beneath his head, and their legs were curled and tucked together to fit on the couch that was too short for their bodies.

This sure wasn't what friends did. But it was what just friends did. Even kissed him behind his ear and pulled him closer and it wasn't long before Isak fell asleep, exhausted from school and stressed about finals. Even held him as he drifted off, pulled a throw blanket over the both of them, and Isak felt safe.

He woke up later, he didn't know how much later. It was dark in the room and the TV was still on, the menu for “continue watching” or “back to browse” frozen on the screen. The door was closing, the lock was latching. Isak peered up with tired eyes and only then remembered that being spooned by Even was not the impression he'd meant to give his roommates tonight.

Eskild was walking towards the coffee table and reaching for the remote. He only noticed that Isak was awake when the television was turned off.

“Go back to sleep, kitten,” Eskild whispered softly, smiling down at him.

Isak was still half asleep when he nodded and closed his eyes, Even's arm tight around him.

 

**EVEN**

Isak was clearly stressed, no matter how calm he tried to act around Even. They'd spent so much time together the latter half of the semester that Even could read him better than he could read anyone. Finals were next week and Isak had canceled his and Even's plans more in the past few days than he ever had before. Which in itself wasn't a bad thing; they needed time apart just like any two people did, they weren't inclined to be the couple attached at the hip. But Isak always sounded so _sad_ about it, always apologized more profusely than would ever be necessary over canceling a movie date. When they talked on the phone because they couldn't see each other, Isak's voice was tired and he drifted off in the middle of conversations. And Even wouldn't _care_ , except that he was worried. He didn't ever want to see Isak the way he'd looked when he was drunk, the night before they'd reconciled. He didn't want Isak to feel alone, or be alone. Not ever.

“Babe,” Even said over the phone, interrupting Isak's rant about his upcoming biology final. Isak stopped talking.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you want to study with me?” Even asked. “I know you have a lot to do, I won't distract you. I'll wait on you hand and foot. Make you chicken nuggets. Bring you coffees.”

“I won't be any fun,” Isak sighed. Even hadn't seen him in four days, and it felt like forever.

“I don't care if you're fun. I just want to see you. In all your boring glory.” He glanced around his bedroom, settled his gaze on the short film he'd written the screenplay for and was now editing, too, because the group member who'd been assigned that job was slacking completely. “Come over, babe, I'll make you dinner. I'll stay out of your way. You can study here with me and I'll make sure you're taking care of yourself. Please, Isak?”

Isak sounded like he was smiling at least a little bit when he said, “Okay. I'll be there in half an hour.”

“Thank you,” Even said.

“Don't thank me. You're the one who's always taking care of me.”

“Well you deserve to be taken care of,” Even said with a smile. He hoped Isak could hear it the way Even could. “And you take care of me right back.”

He imagined that Isak was blushing and/or rolling his eyes when he said, “I'll be over soon. After I finish this chapter.”

Even knew that one chapter would turn to two and then three while he told Even _just one more_ each time. Isak got caught up in things like that. “Let me come pick you up,” Even said. “I'll steal Yousef's car. Or Adam's car. Whichever car you prefer.”

“Isn't Adam's car that really dirty Subaru?”

“I'll take Yousef's car.”

“I don't trust cars,” Isak said, and Even sighed because they'd had this conversation before and it was certainly getting old to try to persuade the most stubborn boy in the world to adjust his beliefs.

“You use Uber all the time.”

“Only when the tram's not running. If it were up to me I'd walk everywhere. But stupid people make everything too far apart.”

“You think the entire population can fit into one square mile?”

“There's too many people on the planet,” Isak said, and Even rolled his eyes. “Population statistics say that the current rate of resource consumption won't support us for long.”

“Way to be positive, babe.”

“Your license is expired, Even,” Isak said, which was actually a good point that Even hadn't recently considered. He just really couldn't find the time or willpower to go renew it.

“I'll take the tram, okay? I'll be there soon.” Three more words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't say them. They'd been just friends for two months. Even though he felt like he was almost there, like he was already there, he didn't. He liked what they had now. He wasn't afraid of ruining it, but he also wasn't in a rush anymore. He had time. He and Isak both.

He got to the apartment in twenty minutes; it'd been nearly two months and Isak had only returned to Eva's to retrieve more of his belongings, the rest of the time he lived in the kollektiv's living room and stayed with Jonas or Magnus and Mahdi or, Even's personal favorite, at the Eriksen house, in Even's bed, under Even's blankets, curled up around Even's body. Even had never gotten to be the little spoon before, but Isak could tuck him up in his arms and loved doing it.

The steadiness of a true home seemed to be working. Isak was thinking less about his negative impact on those around him, more about the fact that people actually did want him around. Being back with his makeshift family seemed to be causing at least some stability that Isak had been lacking when he and Even first met. As he rushed out the door at the base of the stairs, Noora was behind him passing him a paper bag like a mother on her child's first day of school. Isak took it with a cross between an eye roll and a smile, then made his way to Even.

“Hey,” he breathed, kissing his cheek and smiling at him.

“Hey. Got everything?”

“Noora made us cookies,” he said, holding up the paper bag.

“That was nice of her.” Even dropped an arm around Isak's shoulders and steered him away from the curb to the tram stop across the street.

“She thinks you're hot,” Isak said, looking at him.

Even grinned, letting his hand drop down to rub over the expanse of Isak's back before settling it back in his own pocket. “That's nice of her, too.”

Isak was smiling when Even glanced over at him, so Even took his hand and laced their fingers together between them. “Glad you could come,” Even said, lifting Isak's hand to his lips and kissing the back. “I'm tired of missing you.”

“Couldn't say no to you,” Isak said, rolling his eyes. He squeezed Even's hand. “Never can.”

“Never should.”

Isak smiled. “You know I won't.”

Everyone except for Yousef was home, and Mutta and Mikael were lounging in the living room when Even held the door open for Isak to step through.

“Isak!” Mikael cried, on his back on the couch with a bag of chips on his chest. He was clearly high.

“Hey, man,” Mutta said.

“Hi, guys,” Isak said with a small smile, hiking his backpack up on his shoulders. Even stepped up next to him after lining up their shoes against the wall and hanging their coats.

“We're gonna hang out in my room,” he said, trying to push Isak past the living room. He didn't like what his roommates had to say to Isak, not because it was mean but because it was always, without fail, embarrassing as fuck. Like when your parents get really comfortable having your friends around; any filter that they collectively had was lost when they caught sight of Isak.

“Use protection,” Mikael called, and Even pushed him off the couch before following Isak up the stairs.

“Sorry about them,” Even said, closing his bedroom door behind him. “Mikael especially. They don't believe that we're not sleeping together.”

Isak was sitting cross-legged on his bed, already pulling a textbook from his backpack. He just smiled. He was always smiling at Even, and Even took pride in that fact, because Isak didn't smile that easily for just anyone. Even could say the most pointless, unfunny things in the world, and Isak would still smile at him. “That's okay. You've met Eskild. He's just as bad.”

“Eskild calls me pretty,” Even said, grabbing his mostly empty backpack and sitting across from Isak at the foot of his bed.

“Eskild should know better than that,” Isak said to his textbook.

Even smiled and pulled out his phone from his pocket. He angled it poorly at Isak and said, “Why's that?”

Isak flipped pages without looking up. “Because you're mine.” He glanced up and then rolled his eyes, slapping Even's phone from his hand. “Stop fucking filming me all the time!”

“You're so cute!”

“Shut up, Even!”

“You don't understand that I _need_ this, Isak,” Even whined, reaching for his phone, but Isak snatched it up first and trained the camera on him instead.

“Why do you _need_ this, Even?” he asked in a mocking tone, smiling at Even trying to put his hand in front of the camera. Isak pushed his hands down and when Even fell to lay on his back, Isak fell with him. He kept the camera more or less focused on Even's face and Even was not one for shoddy camerawork but he imagined that anything from Isak's perspective would be great.

“Because I need to document this,” Even said, turning his head to face Isak.

Isak's face was halfway hidden by the phone. “What are you documenting?” he asked. “You've been at it for a few weeks.”

“I have a final independent film due for one of my intro classes.” He held up five fingers. “Five days. Don't you want to help me out?”

“What's it for?”

“Film class.”

“No, Even, Jesus, what's it about?”

“It's about you falling in love with me,” Even said.

Isak pulled the phone from his face and studied Even's expression for any insincerity. But Even was genuine. When it came to Isak, he couldn't be anything else.

“Just that?” Isak asked softly.

“You're the focus,” Even said, tucking a strand of Isak's hair behind his ear and smiling at him. “But it's about me falling in love with you back.”

Isak looked so in awe with him. Even stroked a palm over his cheek. He wasn't told he was loved enough, he never had been, and this was the first time they'd ever talked about it even though Even had felt it for so long, even though he felt it with more strength every day.

“Are you really?” Isak asked, so softly, like he was afraid of the answer.

Even coasted his thumb over Isak's cheekbone. “I am.” He watched Isak bite his lip. He felt nervous himself. Feeling and expressing were two different things. And seeing how Isak acted, assuming his mutual feelings, was different than getting confirmation or rejection. He didn't want rejection. Even if Isak didn't feel the same way, Even couldn't stand not being friends with him.

“I am, too,” Isak admitted softly.

It had been so long since Isak had kissed him, and this was different than it'd been before. Soft and chaste. A catch of lips, a release, a second time, a third. Isak's hand on his cheek, Even's fingers tipping his chin up. It was sweet like Isak was. He tasted like coffee—dark roast with sugar—, smelled like the same floral shampoo everyone in his apartment smelled like. When they pulled apart, Isak kept his eyes closed for a while, and only opened them when Even stroked a hand through his hair. He studied Even's face, and then he smiled when Even did and closed his eyes and ducked his head to tuck himself beneath Even's chin for a little bit. Even wrapped his arms around him and held him tight and close.

“You make me so happy,” Even told him, because he was, because it'd never felt like this before. And he'd expected kissing Isak again to be earth-shattering but it was just as familiar as anything else. He was so comfortable with Isak, everything was so comfortable with him. This didn't feel like something new or scary. This felt like an addition to everything else, valuable but no more so than anything else that they did.

“You make me happy, too,” Isak answered. He pulled away from Even's collarbone and rubbed their noses together and kissed him again. Just the same as before. “I really need to study,” he whispered against Even's lips.

So they did, because it was a day like every day, and as much as Even wanted to kiss Isak nonstop for as long as he could, they had all the time in the world for that. Things didn't have to change. Isak leaned back against the headboard and reeled in Even for another kiss, a deeper one, one to stave them over for a while. Even pulled out his desk chair and set up his laptop's editing software with his headphones plugged in. It was a few minutes before he remembered he had new footage of Isak to upload into his “Film 231 Final” folder. When he retrieved his phone from the bed and gave Isak another deep kiss, he saw that the camera had never stopped running. He smiled at it and stopped the video and plugged the phone into his laptop. And he started to cut, and shift, and smile at old moments. He watched Isak and he watched himself, he listened to movies playing and Isak's laughter. He worked until he was happy and then he watched it through. It was a documentary, a day in the life.

“Hey,” Isak said an hour and a half later, when he had a stack of flash cards sitting neatly on Even's nightstand. Even looked up. “Who's gonna see this video of me?”

“My professor,” Even said, closing his laptop and moving back to the bed. Isak tilted his head up and Even kissed him before sitting down. He was forgetting so quickly that they hadn't always done this. Kissing Isak felt more natural than anything.

“That's it?”

“Unless he thinks it's good enough to make me submit it to a film contest, which it won't be, because it's filmed on my iPhone.”

“You saying I'm not good enough to win a film contest?” Isak asked as Even settled next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You're beautiful, baby, I'm just shit at turning it into a movie.”

“You're a great filmmaker, Even, I've seen it myself. I'm just worried that I'm not a film.”

“That's because you haven't seen what I've seen,” Even said. They'd been growing closer and closer and Even had watched it unfold with his camera beside him. Isak had noticed two weeks ago but Even had been at it for a month or more. It started innocently, catching Isak on video doing something cute or having Isak take videos of himself on Even's phone. And when finals approached, Even had more footage of Isak than footage of anything else, and Even wouldn't want to make a video of anything else in his life, anyways. There had to be a topic of focus and his topic was his relationship with Isak.

“You're so cheesy,” Isak said, and pulled him in for a kiss. Even kissed him deep like they hadn't really before, but now they were done studying for a while and they had time and when Isak scooted down on the bed Even followed him and kissed him more.

They didn't go any further. They talked with Isak laying on his chest like they'd done a hundred times before. Isak kissed Even's collarbone and Even stroked his hair. They laid in silence and they kissed and they laughed and they talked but they'd learned so much, they'd learned everything. Isak fell asleep and Even let him. He was always falling asleep in the weirdest situations but this one, Even guessed, wasn't so weird. Even had an arm beneath his head and was pressing a hand down to rub his back, and Isak never slept so it made sense that he'd sleep now. He'd been tense and stressed and Even hadn't seen him in days so he couldn't make sure he'd been getting rest.

Even pulled a blanket halfway over them and curled both arms around Isak and fell asleep with his cheek pressed against the top of Isak's head.

  
+

“What if he says no?” Even asked, staring down at the text waiting to be sent. It was typed out and ready and he was freaking out.

“Why would he say no?” Elias asked.

“Where's Yousef?” Even asked. “I need him.”

“He's with Sana,” Mutta said from the opposite couch, lounged out with the remote in hand.

“I'll text him.”

“If you're gonna text anyone, text Isak,” Adam called from the kitchen.

“Shut the fuck up, I'm taking a moment,” Even said.

“He's taking a moment, you absolute douche,” Mikael echoed. He was laying down on the floor beside the couch Mutta was occupying.

“Fuck off, Mikael,” Adam said.

“Fuck off, Adam!” Mikael called back.

“Shut up, both of you,” Even said. “I just need you to help me with this and then I'll leave you alone.”

“I don't understand what you need help with,” Mutta said.

“I need to ask him.”

“He's not going to say no,” Elias said from beside him on the couch.

“You don't know that.”

“You're in love with him,” Adam said.

“That doesn't mean he'll say yes.”

“He's in love with you, too,” Elias said.

“I can't--”

But Elias reached across him and pressed send and Even was left staring openmouthed at his blue bubble. _Can I take you on a date sometime?_ It stared back at him.

Isak's typing bubble came up almost immediately, and there wasn't any back and forth like there used to be. No hesitation, no appearing and disappearing bubbles before a final say. Even waited as the text came through. _A date with THE Even Bech Næsheim? Who wouldn't say yes to that?_

Even smiled at his phone. _Is that a real yes or are you making fun of me?_

_Both. Come by mine tonight at six?_

He didn't ask how Isak knew he didn't have plans, and he didn't tease Isak for his apparent eagerness.They knew each other and they'd stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

“I'm guessing he said yes?” Elias asked.

“I gotta go get ready,” Even said in reply as he stood up from the couch, staring down at his phone with a sappy smile and typing out a red heart.

He took a shower and dried his hair as best as he could with a towel as he made his way back to his bedroom. He and Isak had hung out almost every day for the last three months, they'd gotten breakfasts and lunches and dinners, they'd seen movies, and they'd done all of it as just friends. Just friends who were more tactile than most friends were, who were in love but wouldn't talk about it, but just friends nonetheless. This date wouldn't be different than anything, except that they kissed, now, and they kissed a lot. They'd still go to dinner, like they always did. They'd get dessert at the cafe that Isak liked. Even would pay for it. But it was different, because they were finally vocalizing their desires. They knew it was a date this time, and that's what made it different. And Even was so excited, because it was Isak, and he was so nervous, because he'd never been on a date with Isak where they both understood that it was a date, and when he was doing it right, and when he knew that Isak wanted this too, with him.

He dressed nicer than he usually would while hanging out with Isak. Instead of sweatpants he wore black jeans and instead of a t-shirt with holes all over it he wore the Wu-Tang Clan t-shirt that Isak had left in his bed a few days ago after stealing it for a month. He shrugged into hoodie, slid on a pair of socks, shoved his wallet in his back pocket as he made his way downstairs. The boys wolf whistled at him when he passed through the living room. They hadn't seen him in much except his pajamas lately; hanging out with Isak didn't take a lot of effort towards appearance on his part.

“Where are you taking him?” Elias asked.

“Kebab,” Even answered, pulling on his shoes near the front door.

“Kebab?” Mikael asked incredulously. “You're going on a first date with a boy you've been obsessed with all year and you're taking him to _kebab_?”

“Isak loves kebab,” Even said. He tied his shoes and pulled his hood over his head. “We eat it in the park and smoke on the bench sometimes, and then we can walk to the cafe that has cupcakes he likes.” He went to the kitchen to grab his keys and felt around his hoodie pocket for the joint he'd tucked there. “I'll see you later,” he said, and was out the door.

He took the tram to Isak's place and only smoked one cigarette on the walk to the apartment. He pressed the buzzer and waited for one of the now-familiar voices to greet him.

“Even?” Eskild asked through the intercom.

“Yeah, it's me,” Even answered.

“Come on up, baby Jesus is still getting ready.”

The door unlocked and Even passed through and went up the stairs to the kollektiv's front door. He knocked. Eskild answered with a big smile.

“Hi, handsome,” he said, stepping aside so that Even could come in. Linn and Noora were both in the living room that was still packed with Isak's stuff, painting each other's toenails on one of the couches. They looked up when they saw Even in the doorway.

“Hey, Even,” Noora said with a smile. “Good to see you again. Isak's just changing, Eskild was in the shower for like an hour so he didn't get a chance to get ready until fifteen minutes ago.”

“I was getting ready, too!” Eskild said. “I have a date tonight.”

Both Noora and Linn made disgusted faces. “That means he's going to some guy's house tonight,” Linn told Even, looking down and focusing on Noora's red nail polish.

“Baby gay can have my room tonight,” Eskild said. He smiled and winked. “It'll be a long one.”

Noora mimed gagging and Linn said, “Gross.”

Even listened to the sink faucet run in the bathroom, and turned to the hallway in time to see Isak step from the doorway, hair still damp. Isak smiled when he saw him. “Hi,” he said, walking out to the living room.

“Hey,” Even answered, wrapping his arm around Isak's waist and giving him a kiss. “You look nice.”

“I put on jeans for the special occasion,” Isak said, kissing him again and nudging their noses together afterwards. “Where are we going?”

“Kebab, I was thinking,” Even said, suddenly nervous about the choice. What if Isak was expecting something more, something different. This was their first real date. Even wanted it to be perfect.

“I love kebab,” Isak said with a smile.

“And then we'll go to the bakery. Get some hot chocolate and cupcakes?”

“Yes,” Isak said, leaning in again. “Perfect. You're perfect.” He planted one more kiss on Even's lips and then took his hand. “Can we go?”

“Nice seeing you, Even,” Noora said.

“Have fun,” Linn said. “Be safe.”

“Text us where you end up if you're not coming back tonight,” Eskild said. “We love you. Have fun.”

“Ugh, bye,” Isak said, pulling Even out the door and closing it behind them.

“So,” Isak said as they walked to the tram stop, swinging their hands between them.

“So,” Even echoed.

“This is a date,” Isak said.

“It is,” Even agreed.

When he looked at Isak he was smiling, looking straight ahead. “Okay.”

Even pulled him closer to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Okay.”

“I'm just wondering,” Isak said, and then didn't finish the thought.

“What are you wondering?” Even asked.

“If this is a date then does that make us...?”

He didn't finish again but Even knew what he was going to ask and he knew the underlying nerves that were straining Isak's voice. He squeezed Isak's hand as they came to a halt at the tram stop. “We don't have to be anything right now. We can be Isak and Even like we always are.” He kissed Isak firm on the lips. “We can stay just friends.”

“I've just never...” Isak looked up from the ground and faced Even, leaning into his chest with both of their hands intertwined. “Done this,” he finished. “I've never done this before and I don't want to get in my head and overthink and ruin it. Stuff like this scares me.”

“I know,” Even said with a smile. He kissed Isak. “It's okay.”

Isak smiled. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Anything I get with you is perfect, Isak. I love being your just friend.”

“Cheesy,” Isak said to himself as he leaned in to kiss Even, and Even smiled into it. He felt so lucky when he was with Isak, even if they weren't defining anything, even if they didn't call each other anything but friends. He didn't need to be Isak's boyfriend if he was already the one that Isak trusted, the one that Isak kissed, the one that Isak slept beside. They'd decided a long time ago that labels were something they didn't need. They knew where they stood with each other. Why force anything else?

When the tram came Isak pushed through the mob at the stop to drag Even into two seats near the front. He always said Even was too polite to live in a major city, and sometimes Even agreed when he saw the way Isak treated people in his way. There were times he'd been left behind at the metro station because of an unmoving crowd that wouldn't have happened had Isak been with him shouldering aside the elderly. He was a good provider; Even enjoyed being with someone who took charge in the way he wasn't programmed to. Sonja had been the same way, to a lesser extent.

Isak brushed his fingers through Even's hair and kissed his temple, and when he wrapped an arm around Even's shoulders Even leaned into him. They'd only kissed for the first time yesterday. They'd studied and napped and cooked dinner together and then Even had left Isak at the tram stop with a last, deep, lingering kiss, and he missed him for those few hours like he always did.

“Almost there,” Isak whispered, fingers of one hand tangled in Even's hair as Even rested his head against Isak's collarbones. Isak made him feel safe. Wanted. When they were together Even knew that he would always be protected, would always be cared for. And he was sleepy and sappy and stressed with his upcoming due dates for final projects but Isak's kiss to his forehead made him happy, because making Even happy was what Isak did best.

They walked hand-in-hand to the restaurant that had Isak's favorite kebab, and Isak ordered for them and Even paid. When they got their orders they walked to the park down the street and took a seat on a the same bench that they always sat on.

“I came out to Jonas on this bench,” Isak said. He turned to look at Even. “Did I ever tell you that?”

Even shook his head. “No. I didn't know that you... got to come out.”

“I guess I didn't, really,” Isak said. “By the time I talked to Jonas, the whole school was already talking about me. The guy I'd slept with had told all his friends and the news spread really quickly and I avoided talking to anyone about it for a long time. Like a month. I just... drank and spent less time at home like I was afraid my mom would somehow find out about it. But Jonas wouldn't stop trying to be a good friend. He never does. And Eskild kept telling me I needed to talk to him, I'd moved in with him by then. And so eventually we came here, and we got kebab, and we sat on this bench. And Jonas let me come out to him. We didn't talk about the rumors or the stories, we just talked, and then I told him, and he gave me a hug and it was all... okay, I guess.”

“I'm glad you had someone like Jonas,” Even said, kissing his temple. “I wish I'd been there for you.”

“There's a universe where you were,” Isak said with a smile, and Even couldn't help but kiss him again.

“I'd've loved to have known you in high school,” Even said. “But I like our story, too. I wouldn't want to risk any other universe. I'm more than happy with this one.”

  
**ISAK**

Even lived closer to school than Eskild did. And Isak was so tired, he'd struggled with insomnia his whole life and he'd still never been this tired. Finals were over and they'd sapped him of every ounce of energy he had. He'd run on three hours of sleep and caffeine for the last week, trying to get through a final a day and then studying for the next ones.

When he knocked on Even's door Yousef answered and Isak blinked up at him, unable to process the events. He didn't think anyone but Even had ever opened the door to him, which, logically, didn't make sense because there were five roommates and only one Even. The odds were statistically against it.

“Is Even here?” Isak asked, feeling heavy and tired.

“No, he's at the library,” Yousef said. Right. He was spending the day cobbling together the millions of stalker videos of Isak he'd taken. He'd told Isak with a kiss and Isak had forgotten. “You okay?” Yousef asked, and Isak focused on him with difficulty.

“Yeah, just tired,” Isak yawned. “Um. I had finals. A lot of finals.”

“Do you want to come in?” Yousef asked with a smile. They were all so nice to him.

“No, I don't want to bother you. I'll just take the tram home, sorry.”

“Hey, it's fine,” Yousef said. “Come in, you can wait for Even in his room. Take a nap, I'm sure he'd like to come home to you.”

“Yeah?” Isak asked, blinking heavy eyes at him.

“Yeah. I know how tired Sana is with her pre-med exams and she's actually making sure she's sleeping enough. Finals week is exhausting. I get it.” He ushered Isak inside and Isak went about toeing his shoes off.

“Can you not tell Even I'm here until he's on his way home?” Isak asked, balancing upright again and shifting his backpack on his shoulders. “If he thinks I need him he'll abandon his project and come home early before it's finished.”

“Yeah, he's like that, isn't he?” Yousef said with a smile. “Head upstairs, I won't tell him.”

“Thank you, Yousef.”

“No problem, Isak.”

Even's bed was softer than the kollektiv couch, and bigger, and it smelled more like Even. Isak let his backpack and jacket fall to the floor and crawled under the blankets in his sweatpants and t-shirt. He rolled to Even's side of the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and fell asleep in an instant.

When he woke up Even was beside him. Warm and messing around on his laptop with his headphones in, one hand carding fingers through Isak's hair where Isak was resting on his thigh. Isak blinked up at him, shifting against his leg, and Even glanced down at him as he took his headphones out.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he said with a smile.

Isak rubbed at his eye and murmured, “Lame,” before pursing his lips and making Even lean down to kiss him. “Did you have fun at the library?”

“Yeah, I got my movie all done and submitted. Should get my final grade back in the next few weeks.” He stroked through Isak's hair again, tugging at the tangles until they smoothed. “You were a pleasant surprise.”

“I didn't mean to show up unannounced,” Isak said, running a hand up and down Even's leg until Even caught his fingers and laced them together. “I was just so tired from this week that I couldn't think straight. I forgot you were working on your projects.”

“It's okay,” Even said. “You've been working so hard. I'm glad you're getting rest now. And I'm glad your semester is over. Now you're all mine.”

Isak sat up and wrapped his arms around Even's neck and kissed him deep. “All yours, baby,” he agreed.

“So,” Even said, leaning back against the headboard with an arm around Isak's shoulders, running fingers over the expanse of Isak's arm that he could reach. “It's summertime.”

Isak smiled, leaning his head against Even's. “It is. Astute observation.”

They were supposed to have over three months off, but Isak was taking a few classes at the college and had been looking into jobs. He had an interview for a wait job at Eva's restaurant that she had gotten for him; she'd been gaining responsibility and this summer she would be starting as a shift lead with a significant increase in pay to help her out. Her waitressing job needed replacing. Jonas had put in a good word on Isak's behalf when Isak had felt too guilty to ask Eva for yet another favor.

“I know you have responsibilities this summer,” Even said, kissing the top of his head. Reading Isak's mind like he always did, always could. “But I want you to enjoy yourself, too. And my aunt has this cabin she never gets out to anymore. I'd really like to take you there.”

Isak looked up at him with big eyes.

“It's on a lake,” Even added with a soft smile, and Isak smiled wider than he possibly ever had.

“You want to take me there?” he asked.

“I do,” Even said, and then let out an _oomph_ as Isak pulled him in for a hug that was clearly crushing the air from his lungs. Isak didn't care. He was so happy. He was happy in his life, in his friends, in himself. He felt like he belonged somewhere for the first time in a long, long time. And it wasn't just in Even's arms, in Even's bed, in Even's house. It was in the kollektiv, where he didn't feel like a burden any longer. It was in his group of friends, where he didn't feel weak anymore. He was happy and Even was always, _always_ making him happier.

“I would love to,” Isak said, voice muffled against his neck. “Thank you.”

“We can go on hikes,” Even said, rubbing his hands over Isak's back. “We can go swimming and we can take out the canoe. We can make a fire in the pit outside.”

Isak just held him tighter. “Yes,” he whispered, because he couldn't say anything else.

“Good,” Even said. He rubbed his back one last time and pulled back, kissing him slow. He rested their foreheads against each other and said it again. “Good.” And Isak just smiled.

Isak laid in Even's bed flipping through Even's sketchbook as Even finished editing the last minutes of the movie he'd written the screenplay for. He fell asleep again while Even coasted fingers through his hair and when he woke up it was barely light and Even was curled behind him, tucked into him at every curve, legs intertwined and an arm around Isak's waist, the other beneath Isak's head. They'd gotten so good at sleeping together; there was none of the hesitant and awkward distance that had surrounded them the first time Even had spent the night. Isak found it harder and harder to separate himself from Even when he awoke. He hoped every day for a time when neither of them had to leave in the mornings, or after naps, or ever, really. He would be fine with never leaving Even's side again, probably.

He turned over beneath Even's arm and traced the features of his face with his index finger. From his chin up his jaw, around the shell of his ear, over the ridge of his eyebrow, down the slope of his nose. He let his fingers glance over Even's lips before cupping his jaw and kissing his cheek and sitting up carefully. Even shuffled into the warm space Isak had vacated as he stepped out of bed, and Isak smoothed the blanket over his back and kissed him between his shoulder blades. When he checked his phone on his way down the stairs he saw it was around five; he'd been at Even's for six hours but it hadn't felt like it, just like it never did.

“Hey, Isak,” Yousef said from the living room, where he was congregated with Mikael, Mutta, and Adam. Adam and Mutta each had textbooks and study guides spread around them, but Mikael seemed to be done with his finals, if he'd had any. Film students tended to suffer through far fewer tests than biochemistry students, a lesson Isak had learned from trying to study with Even when Even had no exams to study for. Even was capable of so much distraction when he was bored.

“Hey,” Isak said. “Can I use your kitchen?”

“Go for it,” Mutta said distractedly.

“Where's Even?” Mikael asked without looking up from the TV.

“Asleep,” Isak said. “I think I'll just cook one of his frozen pizzas and then I'll go back upstairs.”

“Take your time,” Adam said. “You're not bad to have around.”

Isak smiled. “Thanks.” He found one of Even's pizzas in the freezer and preheated the oven. “What are you watching?” he asked.

“This guy is looking for an Argentinian bigfoot,” Mikael said.

“Oh,” Isak said.

“It's riveting,” Yousef said with an eye roll that Isak could hear in the tone of his voice.

“Yousef's never happy with anything we watch,” Adam said.

“Where's Elias?” Isak asked.

“He and Sana have dinner with their parents,” Yousef said forlornly.

“Which is why Yousef is here for the first time in forever,” Mutta said.

“I'm here all the time!” Yousef protested. Isak went to slide the pizza into the oven, having waited a valiant two minutes for the oven to warm. It hadn't made it to four hundred degrees yet and Isak didn't have the patience to wait for it to do so. He set the timer on his phone and went to sit in the living room. Yousef made room for him on one of the couches.

“You're never here when you could be with Sana,” Mikael said.

“Yeah, why doesn't Sana ever come over here?” Adam asked. “We like Sana.”

“Because I don't want Sana to have to deal with your shit,” Yousef said.

“That's understandable,” Mutta said.

“I don't see how Even can subject Isak to this all the time,” Yousef said, punching Isak's arm fondly.

“Believe me, it's a thousand times better here than it is with my roommates in my apartment,” Isak said with a smile.

“Even really likes your roommates,” Mikael said.

“Yeah because they all want to sleep with him,” Isak said. His voice was a bit more bitter than he'd intended, he'd admit. He just didn't like thinking of anyone else having Even. Even in a hypothetical capacity.

All the boys broke out in laughter.

“I don't think you have anything to worry about, my friend,” Adam said from the floor. “He's only got eyes for you.”

When Isak made his way back upstairs with the cooked pizza, Even hadn't moved. Isak let him sleep. He pulled Even's laptop to the bed and started Netflix up and ate a piece of pizza with the _Narcos_ subtitles on and the volume low. Because they could do this. They could coexist. It was one of Isak's favorite things about them.

Even woke up fifteen minutes into the first _Narcos_ episode and moved his head to Isak's lap to watch with him without saying a word. Isak scooted the plate with pizza towards him and Even ate sleepily while Isak ran fingers through his hair. It was another fifteen minutes before Even seemed awake enough to be ready to speak.

“Will you stay tonight?” Even asked.

Isak brushed Even's hair from his face. “Yeah, I could do that,” Isak said.

“Oh, you could do that?” Even asked. “Thanks for the sacrifice. It means the world.”

Isak smiled. “Mm. Eskild loves me. What do you have to offer?”

As soon as he said it he realized that his desire for those words to fall from Even's lips was overwhelming. He'd never been told by another man that he was loved in this capacity and he wanted it so bad, and he'd wanted it for so long but he'd never wanted it more than he wanted it from Even. Because Isak loved him. He really loved him and it was the first time in his life that he didn't feel scared by that information. He was excited by the prospect of Even loving him back. Because he didn't fear being left behind anymore. He didn't think he'd be destroyed if he was, or if his feelings went unrequited. He would be okay. He knew he would.

But Even didn't say it. And Isak was okay with that, too. Because Even was afraid of moving too fast, so it didn't mean he didn't feel it. In fact, he was almost positive that Even felt it, because he showed it in tons of other little ways.

“I'm really good at spooning you,” Even said. “Eskild can't spoon you like I can.”

He probably could, really, but Isak didn't want him to. He never wanted anyone else to hold him the way Even did.

“You're right,” Isak said, smiling at him. “I guess I have to stay.”

  
+

“Hello my children!” Eskild announced as he passed through the living room, stopping in the doorway and looking at the group of people crowded there. Noora had invited Eva over without knowing that Isak had invited Jonas over so the two of them were making out with fervor in the corner of the room, sat on the floor because Isak had physically pushed them off of the couch with his foot when they kept falling into him. Vilde was on one couch, wedged between Noora and Chris and Sana, with Magnus on the floor between her legs letting her pull his hair into tiny, firm braids that stuck up all across his head. He was having an animated conversation about Manchester United with Mahdi, sitting on the couch next to Isak and Even and waving his beer around in emphasis for his argument. Linn was at her parents' house a few hours away and would be gone for the weekend. Eva's hamster was on the coffee table chewing on peanuts and pooping on magazines.

There was a chorus of greetings from the group in the living room; Jonas and Eva even separated enough for a quick hello.

“What are the plans for tonight?” Eskild asked, zipping his hoodie halfway up his chest, keys dangling from one hand.

“There's a party,” Chris said. She'd drank almost an entire six pack of beers and still had her head about her in a way that Isak would never be able to tolerate. “Some of us are going to that. The rest of us are being boring couples.”

“Boring couples with a sex life,” Eva said, and held up Jonas's hand for a forcible high-five while he shook his head.

“You're the only couple here with a sex life,” Noora said.

“That's true,” Sana said.

“Speaking of couples,” Even teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“Could say the same for you,” she retorted, and Isak smiled as he watched Even blush. They'd been uncharacteristically chaste all night; they barely touched more than the swift kiss hello they'd shared at the door. They were used to practicing more restraint around others than they normally would alone; everyone knew at least a little bit about the nature of their relationship, which in itself was hard to define, but Isak didn't want to share things that weren't yet quite true and he didn't want to have to talk about the speculations that everyone else was still harboring silently.

“Well,” Eskild said. “I'm going out tonight. I'll be out all night. If you know what I mean.” He smiled. “Sex.” Isak rolled his eyes as Noora groaned, and he continued. “Anyways. If you're coming home tonight, baby gay, you and the stud muffin can take my room.”

“I'm actually staying at Chris and Sana's with Vilde,” Noora said. “So you can take your pick of the bedrooms.”

Isak looked up at Even with bright eyes and caught him already smiling down at him where he was slouched on the couch at his side. They didn't say out loud what they were both thinking; that for the first time in months they had an empty house to themselves, and not just for the evening, but until the next morning. Isak didn't know why it made him so excited but it did. No interruptions: just Even.

“Where are you going tonight, Eskild?” Mahdi asked with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“He has a date with the same guy he's been seeing for two weeks,” Noora said.

“Ooh,” Magnus cooed from the floor, hair tied into braids that jutted in every direction. “Is this a love connection?”

“Please don't ask that,” Isak said, just as Eskild said, “A love connection with that dick. Biggest I've ever seen. Beautiful.”

“Gross, Eskild,” Noora mumbled, picking at the chipping nail polish on her fingernails.

“He's been talking about this guy's dick since their first date,” Isak said.

“You both need to get laid,” Eskild said, pointing his fingers first at Noora and then at Isak. Isak tried not to blush because he didn't want to think about why he wanted to blush.

“I agree, Eskild,” Eva said, scooping Amadeus from the top of the coffee table and shoving him into her hoodie pocket. He poked his nose out one side and sniffed around. Isak waved at him and Amadeus's whiskers twitched in some semblance of response.

“I'm fine without it, thanks,” Noora said.

“And if we do get laid, it won't be on the instruction of our roommate,” Isak said.

“Your guru,” Eskild corrected.

“That changes nothing,” Isak said. He was eager for everyone to leave, now that he knew he'd have a night to himself with Even in an empty house.

“Have fun, little ducklings,” Eskild said as he made his way to the door.

“Bye, Eskild,” everyone called. Isak looked at Even and sat up straighter to lean more of his weight against his side. Even pressed one soft kiss into his hair and Isak let a hand drop to Even's thigh. The group was sitting in silence for a while, an uncharacteristic feat for so many people, and Isak let his guard down enough to put his head on Even's shoulder and encourage Even's arm around him. Even complied, because he always did. Isak kissed his jaw and settled down in his half-embrace.

“Well,” Sana said after a few minutes without conversation, standing up with a smile at her phone. “My ride's here.”

“That means Yousef,” Isak said.

“He's cooking me dinner,” Sana said smugly, smiling at the catcalls that came with that.

“It's eleven o'clock,” Isak said.

“It's a late dinner,” she told him, unimpressed, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“I wish you would cook me dinner,” Eva told Jonas in the corner.

“You always get mad at me when I try to cook for you,” Jonas said.

“That's because you make the biggest mess of my kitchen the world has ever seen.”

“You have _literally_ evacuated the building by burning food--”

“That is _not_ what we're talking about right now!”

“Bye!” Sana called from the door.

“Bye, Sana!” everyone called. The girls yelled that they loved her. Sana turned to Even.

“You don't want a ride home, do you?” she asked.

“I'm sticking around here for a while,” Even said, squeezing Isak. “But thanks. Have fun. Tell Yousef I'll be gone for the night.”

“Alright, bye everyone,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

“I guess that's our cue that the night's over,” Mahdi said, standing up. “Let's go to that party.”

“And let's get you home,” Jonas murmured to Eva, kissing her cheek a few times in succession as he helped her up from the floor.

“And let's get _me_ laid,” Chris said.

And then they were alone. They'd almost never been alone.

Isak looked up at him without moving his head from Even's shoulder, and Even was already looking down.

“Hungry?” Even asked, and Isak nodded. His heart was beating so fast, and he didn't know why.

“Hey,” he said, when he was sitting on the counter and Even was scrambling eggs in a frying pan.

“Hm?” Even asked.

“Come here,” Isak said.

Even looked up at him with a smile. “I'm cooking,” he said, as if Isak had forgotten.

“Leave it.”

“It'll burn.”

“Turn it off, then.”

“You said you were hungry.”

“I lied.”

Even turned the stovetop down and moved into Isak's space, between his thighs, bracing his hands against his knees and smiling up at him. Isak smiled back, threading fingers through Even's hair and pulling him into a kiss.

“What's up?” Even asked against his lips.

“Mm. Why does something have to be up?” Isak asked, kissing him again.

“You want something. I know you when you want something.”

Isak scoffed. “You don't know me that well.”

Even kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his jaw. “What do you want, baby? I'll get it for you.”

“I want to watch the movie,” Isak said, letting Even kiss his neck.

“Mm, later,” Even murmured, kissing down his throat.

“No,” Isak said, gripping Even's hair tight to pull him closer to his skin. “You always say later. You always say soon. I want to see it.”

“You will,” Even said. “But isn't this better right now?”

He'd be lying if he said no. They'd gone this far but they hadn't gone farther. And Isak realized he was nervous because they were going to. They were going to go farther and he was so ready for it and he was so excited but the last time they did this they messed it up and Isak wasn't eager to relive that kind of pain. He just needed a moment.

“Please?” he asked, voice hitching as Even sucked on his collarbone. “Please, Even?”

Even sighed and rested his forehead against Isak's shoulder, detaching his lips. “Really?” he asked. “Now?”

Isak nodded, rubbing his back. “Now.”

Even pulled back and kissed him soft. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

Isak smiled at him, hugging him close. “I could get used to hearing that.”

Even helped him off of the countertop. “You should. It'll always be true.”

They sat together on the couch, one of Even's arms around Isak's waist as he pulled Isak's computer onto his lap. Isak twisted in his arms to run fingers through Even's hair, watching Even's moves, nervous for a reason he could hardly decipher. He was alone with Even, he was going to watch the story of how they'd fallen in love, and he was nervous about it all. His knee bounced until Even put a hand on his thigh and stilled him. “Relax,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss Isak, soft and short. “It's okay.”

Isak swallowed and nodded. He relaxed his tense muscles and leaned his head against Even's and looked at the screen. Isak sensed that this was something momentous and Even sensed that Isak was uncomfortable with how momentous he was finding it. And Isak was so grateful that he wasn't nervous anymore. Because Even would never do anything that Isak didn't want. For the first time in his life, he was with someone who asked and knew and respected his boundaries. He felt safer with Even than he'd ever felt with anyone.

Even had navigated to the page where he'd submitted his project and put the film in full screen. He turned to Isak again. “Ready?” he asked, small, nervous smile on his lips.

Isak kissed him. “I'm ready.”

Even pressed play.

“ _Just friends,_ ” a voice on the video said, like an answer to a question. The camera panned up and Isak was there, playing with the fingers on one of Even's hands. He looked up and smiled at the man behind the screen. “ _And I like being just friends again_.”

The movie was snapshots of life, it was videos of Isak, it was swinging moments of the two of them together. It was Isak brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror, Isak smiling at Even as he did dishes at the kollektiv's kitchen sink. Isak's fingers walking across the back of Even's hand, Isak asleep over his textbooks on his living room floor, Isak standing on the bed behind where Even stood on the floor, arranging his hair in the five-foot mirror Even had on his wall. It was Isak throwing dishtowels at Even while both of them laughed, Isak laying on his back with Even's arm beneath his head, Isak on his phone and looking up to blow Even a kiss. It was little quotes. Little moments. It was Even's face and a pan to Isak, asleep. It was Even's fingers interlocked with Isak's. It was a park in the sunshine and the school cafeteria at two a.m., Isak sipping coffee and Even steeping tea. There wasn't anyone else. There was just the two of them. Isak, shirtless, rifling through Even's dresser drawers. Even forcing Isak to dance in the kitchen, phone leaning up against the coffee pot. “ _It's about you falling in love with me_ ,” Even says at the end, his face the only in the frame, the camera held lopsided in Isak's hands. There was a cut, a shot of the ceiling. “ _It's about me falling in love with you back._ ”

The screen went to black. There weren't credits, there wasn't music. It looked every bit like something that'd been filmed on an iPhone.

But Isak was pushing the computer away and climbing into Even's lap because it was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. Someone had made this for him. Someone who loved him.

“Fucking hell,” Isak whispered, threading his fingers into Even's hair. “I love you.”

Even was looking up at him with an expression he'd seen so very many times before. “I love you, too,” he answered, just as quietly, with just as much reverence. “Isak, I'm so in love with you.”

And maybe Isak wasn't the best at expressing himself because he'd spent so much of his life keeping everything inside, but when he leaned in and kissed Even deep, he felt like Even understood. When Even pushed back and kissed him harder, he knew he did.

“I love you,” Isak whispered to him, because saying that could never get old. “I love you.”

They kissed. And they kissed and they kissed and then Isak's hoodie was gone and so was Even's and they were working on Even's t-shirt.

“Wait,” Even gasped, pulling away from the kiss with difficulty. He closed his eyes and turned his head so that Isak's next kiss would land on his cheek instead. “Wait, baby.”

“What?” Isak asked, trying to catch his breath. “What? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Even said, looking up at him and smoothing his hands over the sides of Isak's thighs. “Just wanted to talk to you. Before we do anything else. I want to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Isak said with a smile. “We can talk.” He twisted locks of Even's hair around his fingers. “What do you want to talk about at this very inconvenient time?”

Even smiled at him. “Just wanna make sure you're okay. With this. With everything. Just wanna make sure we're not... moving too fast.”

“Even,” Isak said. He leaned their foreheads together. “Baby.”

“Mm?” Even hummed, closing his eyes at the raking of Isak's fingers through his hair, the scratch of his nails against his scalp.

“I've wanted this for such an embarrassing amount of time.”

Even laughed, pulling Isak close and hugging him, burying his face in Isak's chest. “I promise I won't leave you. I promise.”

“I know,” Isak said. “I know you never would.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

“I know, Even. It's okay.” He carded fingers through Even's hair again and kissed the top of his head. “I know, baby.” He kissed his temple. “Relax. Just relax.”

Even let out a broken breath, and then another one. The third was more solid, more steady, and he looked up at Isak in admiration, like he always did. No one had ever made Isak feel so valued before.

“You okay?” Isak asked. Even nodded, and Isak nodded back. “Good. That's good.”

“Can we go somewhere that's not your living room?” Even asked.

“Eskild's room has condoms,” Isak said, pulling Even into a kiss. They were both smiling into it and the kiss broke easy.

“I think Eskild's room is where I want to be, then,” Even said.

“We can do that,” Isak said, kissing him again.

“Then let's do that.”

Isak tripped over shoes in the hallway and Even had to hold him up, so they were both laughing when they closed Eskild's bedroom door behind them.

“He'll be okay with this?” Even asked.

“I'll change the sheets.” He locked the door and turned to Even, leaning back against it. He bit his lip. Even was standing near the bed, looking him up and down like he was something beautiful. And they'd done a lot of things wrong the first time, but the sex was not part of it. Even had been sweet, he'd been courteous, he'd treated Isak with love and care and the utmost understanding. It's part of the reason that Isak had known he was a good man, even after everything.

Even sat down on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he suggested with a smile, and Isak went.

It was hours that felt endless. Hours of rolling in the bedsheets, hours of heated touches and tame kisses. Hours of build-ups and releases and an easy progression to the buildup again. And Isak was the happiest he had ever been. They took two showers and four snack breaks and every time they thought they were done, they weren't. It was three in the morning before Even put on a movie, setting the laptop on the nightstand, and spooned Isak close to his chest. It was 3:30 when Isak turned over in half-consciousness, nudging his nose against Even's collarbones and resting half of his weight on Even's chest. Even draped an arm around his waist and one around his shoulders and they fell asleep with _Pretty Woman_ playing in the background.

  
**EVEN**

He didn't forget the night before for even a second when he woke up. Before he opened his eyes, he knew he was in Eskild's bed, in Isak's apartment, with the man of his dreams asleep on his chest. He knew that he and Isak had had sex more times than they'd kept track of, that he'd finally been inside Isak, that he'd had Isak inside him again. He remembered the taste of Isak's lips, the feel of his skin. He remembered every vivid second of every single gasped, “I love you,” and he remembered that that was a first-time admission last night. He remembered everything. And it made him hold Isak tighter.

He tried not to move too much when he finally gave into the light in the room and open his eyes. Eskild lived his life with the blinds open; the bedroom was awash with sunlight and the time was displayed on an analog clock above the closet doors. It was past eleven. Even couldn't really blame Isak for still sleeping soundly.

His phone was basically flooded. The boys had filled their housemate groupchat with dozens of messages, and Eskild had sent him seventeen winky face emojis. Magnus had told him to get some with a yellow thumbs-up and then that Vilde wished him luck in a separate message. Yousef had texted asking if he needed a ride when he was downstairs waiting for Sana. Even realized he hadn't checked his messages since ten o'clock the night before. It was as he was sending off a text to the groupchat proclaiming that he was, indeed, alive when Isak stirred on his chest.

Even looked down but could only see the tousled hair on Isak's head until Isak moved to rest on the pillow beside Even's and looked at him with tired eyes and a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” Isak said, nestling further into the comforter.

“Good morning,” Even answered, stroking a finger down the side of Isak's face.

Isak blinked to look at him again. “Sleep well?”

“Better than ever.”

Isak's smile broadened. “Dork,” he said.

“Hey. You're the one who loves this dork. That says more about you than it does about me.”

“How?” Isak asked, fighting down a laugh.

“I didn't choose to be a dork. You chose to love a dork.”

“I didn't choose that either,” Isak said. It felt more serious, now. “It just happened.”

Even cupped his cheek and pulled him close. “I love you,” he said against Isak's lips, before kissing him soft and wonderful.

When Isak pulled back and looked at him, it was with a dazed little smile. “I love you, too.”

Even didn't know why he'd expected the kitchen to be empty when he and Isak entered it, but it wasn't, and he was shocked into a standstill when he realized it. His hands were behind his back and Isak's hands were in them. Isak ran into his back at the stumble and then looked over his shoulder.

“Oh,” Even heard in his ear. Because not only were they not alone, but all of the roommates stood in the kitchen staring at them. Even was blushing before anyone had said a word.

“I'm hungry, Even,” Isak whispered to him, killing Even's half-formed plan to drag Isak back to a bedroom that wasn't his.

“Okay,” Even said, and felt Isak's hands slip from his own.

“Hey, guys,” Isak said, moving to lean against the counter across from Linn. Noora was at the stove and Eskild was in his little silk robe waiting for the food to cook, standing in the doorway to the living room. “Um. Eskild, I'll make your bed after breakfast. I have to do laundry.”

“I'm sure you do,” Eskild said suggestively. Even was still standing in the hallway entrance, but when Isak extended a hand to him, Even took it and was reeled into his side.

“Linn,” Isak said, clearing his throat and ignoring Eskild. “I didn't know you were home.”

“Had to take an early train,” Linn said. She took a sip of coffee. “Work at noon.”

“Oh,” Isak said. He had a reassuring arm around Even's waist. “Noora, was the party fun?”

She was about to answer when Eskild said, “Oh, cut the shit, Isak. How was the _sex_?”

“Oh my God,” Isak sighed.

“Um,” Even added.

“Well?” Eskild prodded.

“That's not your business, is it?” Noora asked from the stove.

“I always tell you guys about my love life.”

“No one wants that,” Linn said.

“Would you like some eggs, boys?” Noora asked, already cracking more into a bowl as she slipped two omelets onto two plates from the skillet. She handed one to Linn and one to Eskild and looked over her shoulder at Isak and Even.

“Even can make some for me,” Isak said. “Don't worry about it.”

“Alright,” Noora said, grabbing a box of cereal from her shelf in the cabinets. Isak opened the refrigerator for her so that she could take out her soy milk, and she sat at the kitchen table with a bowl and spoon. Eskild and Linn followed to sit with her.

Even moved to the stove and used a fork to beat the eggs Noora had left for them. He kissed Isak's temple and pointed towards the fridge, and Isak brought him milk and sour cream before jumping to sit on the counter next to the stove.

“Well,” Eskild said, and Even didn't even look over his shoulder in fear of what the following sentence would be.

He heard Isak sigh. “ _What_ , Eskild?” he demanded.

“Nothing!” Eskild said in a facade of innocence. “It's just that you seem happy. And... close.”

“They're always happy and close,” Noora said.

“Yeah, leave them alone, Eskild,” Linn said.

“I'm just saying,” Eskild said.

“Please don't,” Isak said.

“ _I,_ personally, had incredible sex last night,” Eskild finished.

“Ugh,” Noora said.

“Not as good as the sex I had last night,” Isak said, and Even looked up at him with an open mouth. Isak winked at him with his little grin and Even let out a surprised little laugh as Eskild whistled from the table and Noora laughed.

“Get it, baby Jesus,” Eskild said.

“I did,” Isak assured him.

“Oh my God, Valtersen,” Even said, burying his face in his hands.

Isak just laughed and fished two forks out of the silverware drawer when Even piled the scrambled eggs into a giant mound on one plate.

They shared one chair because there were only four at the kitchen table. Even took one half and Isak took the other, bracing the rest of their weight with their free legs planted firmly on the ground beside them. It wasn't easy. But no one else at the table seemed to want to move, so they made do. And Even could admit that it felt pretty delicious to be pressed up against Isak's side even in this most innocent of cases. Even after four straight hours of sex the night before, touching Isak in any regard was a most exciting prospect.

“What are your plans for today?” Noora asked, looking around the table.

“Work,” Linn said.

“Work,” Eskild said, rolling his eyes.

Isak looked at Even and smiled and shrugged. “Wanna stay in today?”

Even knew he was nodding too quickly. “Yeah, let's do that,” he said.

“You're banned from my room until there are sheets on the bed again,” Eskild said.

Isak rolled his eyes. “We'll go to Even's place. Where there's a bedroom.”

“And a bed,” Even added, and Isak slapped his chest with the same shocked laugh that Even had emitted minutes prior.

Even liked breakfast in the kollektiv. On the weekends they all cooked together and ate together, they talked and asked questions and genuinely cared about the answers. And Isak always looked so happy there, with this makeshift family. They didn't exclude Even, either, and they didn't make Even's contributions to the conversations all about his relationship to Isak. They asked him about film school, about his projects, about his family. His eldest sister was six months pregnant and Eskild and Linn loved to fawn over the ultrasounds and pictures of her growing belly. Even could never be confused about how easily Isak fit into this little family. They cared, they cared so much, every single one of them. Eskild had been hardly older than Even himself when he found seventeen-year-old Isak, drunk and alone and recently outed against his will, and instead of ignoring the problem this teenaged boy posed, he'd taken him in and helped him. Linn and Noora had sacrificed some of their very limited space to him, and then made even more room for Even to stay over half of his days. Even had never had to think about what he'd do if his family didn't accept him—they'd been so great about his bipolar diagnosis, and then about his struggle with his sexuality and his final conclusion, and he'd never had to fear that they _wouldn't_ be great about it. He was so glad Isak had people around him. If anything terrible ever happened between the two of them, Even would have his family to fall back on. He was happy to know that Isak would have his own version of a family. That even if they ended badly, Isak would have a support system.

And along the same note, Even was starting to realize that, should anything happen—because he'd learned that as long as there was random chance in the universe, anything _could_ happen—he would be okay. He'd been terrified of himself, of his track record, of never finding the kind of relationship he'd always wanted, but Isak had changed it. He was capable of love, he was _excited_ about love again instead of in constant fear of it. He wasn't sabotaging himself or his relationships. He was in love with more than just the idea; he was in love with the person, deeply and consumingly. He obviously hoped and hoped and hoped that they would last—it felt like he'd never wanted anything more—but he knew he'd eventually be okay if they didn't. He knew that they both would. And that was a freeing feeling.

“I'm gonna go for a run,” Isak said after he and Even had cleaned the kitchen, pressing a kiss to Even's lips as he retreated into the living room, where his clothes were lodged under one of the end tables.

Even made a wounded noise as he followed him.

“Well you're welcome to join me,” Isak teased, smiling up at him from where he knelt.

“You didn't get enough exercise last night?” Even asked. Isak threw a t-shirt and a pair of jeans at him. The boxers hit him full in the face and slid down to rest in his arms.

“Go take a shower. I'll be home in an hour.”

“What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Just hang out,” Isak said, standing up again with running shorts and a synthetic tee in his arms. “I won't be gone long.” He started towards the bathroom and Even followed him. “Or you can go back to yours and I'll just meet you there.”

Even closed the door behind them and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm. He took off his t-shirt and watched Isak do the same.

“Don't get any ideas,” Isak said, following his gaze. “We have all day for that.”

“I want right now for it,” Even said, reaching out and pulling Isak closer by the waist.

“You're feeding me too well for me to not go on runs, Even,” Isak said, but let Even kiss down his neck. “This body is all yours now, baby, don't you want it to stay nice and tight?”

“You're fucking sexy as hell no matter what your body looks like,” Even said against his skin, as if Isak hadn't been just teasing him, and Isak laughed, but his breath hitched when Even sucked instead of kissed.

“Fuck, what are you doing?”

“Trying to seduce you so you'll stay.”

“Mm, nice try,” Isak said, pushing his head away with a smile. “You're just going to make this take longer.”

“You can't go on a run with a boner.”

Isak pulled his synthetic t-shirt over his head and dropped his sweatpants to step into his athletic shorts. “Guess I better get going, then,” he said, and kissed Even once, and then was gone.

Although Even tried to pout throughout his shower— _alone,_ he might add—he had to admit that it felt good in the way only after-sex showers can feel, and he stayed in there longer than he normally would. He smelled like sex, like _Isak_ , and it wasn't bad but it was also not totally socially acceptable. Also tacky dried cum, while maybe hot in the moment, lost its charm pretty quickly, and it'd been about twelve hours since his first orgasm.

The hot water washing over him felt amazing against his strained muscles; he hadn't had sex since his first time with Isak almost four months before, and his body had adjusted to the unfamiliar workout last night but was much less forgiving this morning. At least Isak was used to working his body like that—maybe not in this way, per se, but his muscles were more adapted to long hours of exercise than were Even's. If Even had tried to go on a run this morning he probably would have collapsed on his way down the stairs at the mere prospect of continuing for a mile. Although he found it sexy beyond belief that Isak ran a six-minute mile (he liked having a kind-of-boyfriend who was stronger than him, for a million reasons including fantastic sex) he feared he'd never see it in action because running or going to the gym or stretching in the park like Isak did on the daily was not Even's ideal start to the day.

When he stepped out of the shower he dried himself with Isak's towel, brushed his teeth with the toothbrush he'd started storing in the kollektiv medicine cabinet alongside Isak's, and changed into Isak's clothes that he'd been given. In the hallway, he saw that Eskild had dropped his laundry basket outside his door and Linn had left for work already. Noora was in the living room when he walked in with the laundry basket.

“How much does it cost to do laundry here?” Even asked.

She looked up from her phone. “Two dollars for a wash, fifty cents for every thirty minutes in the dryer.”

Isak always used the laundromat at the end of the street, desperate to save the dollar that they didn't charge. Even knew it stressed both him and Noora out—Noora got frustrated at the fact that he felt too guilty to let her do his laundry with hers—so he crouched at the duffel bag where Isak kept his dirty clothes and unloaded them into the laundry basket with Eskild's dirty sheets. When he straightened back up, Noora was smiling softly at him, and he didn't know why he was blushing, but he was.

“Do you, uh, have anything you need done?” Even asked, trying to pull the attention away from how whipped he was, and how happy he was to be whipped.

“No,” she said fondly. “That's okay.”

He put the laundry in the washer, shaking out Isak's clothes and finding a dollar and sixty one cents in his pants' pockets, and went back upstairs to wait for the cycle to finish. Noora wasn't alone in the living room anymore, though, and Eskild's bedroom door was open, the room empty.

“Hey, Jonas,” Even said, sitting down on the opposite couch.

“Hey, I was just leaving,” Jonas said, standing in the middle of the room as if he hadn't even sat down. “This is what I get for not texting Isak to make sure he was home.”

“I mean, he'll be back soon,” Even said. “If you need some bro time I can get out of here.”

“Oh, God, no,” Jonas said, snorting a little and sitting down next to Even. “I didn't know you two fucked last night, if I'd known that I wouldn't have even stopped by.”

Even looked at Noora, who raised her eyebrows and mouthed, _oops_. Even smiled.

“He's gonna want to spend all day with you,” Jonas said. “He's been waiting for this. I'm not about to interrupt that time. I'll just call him later.”

“He's been waiting for this?” Even asked, voice a bit desperate and strange to his own ears.

“Of course he has,” Jonas said with a scoff. “I've seen you two together. I've seen him text you nonstop when you're apart. Once when me and him were staying at Mahdi and Magnus's, I heard him talking to you on the phone because he couldn't get to sleep. It was adorable and... so annoying that I knew he was in love. He's never been in love before.”

Even's heart was beating so fast. Because he'd been in love with Isak for so long, he'd wanted to say it for so long, and for some reason it was just now hitting him that he _had_ said it, that Isak _knew_ , that there weren't any more secrets because that had been the last and the biggest one.

“You're really good for him, Even,” Jonas said, and Even didn't know him well because he was Isak's friend and their only interactions had been within a larger group setting, but he knew how much he meant to Isak, and how much more Isak meant to him. It was clear in the way Jonas talked with him, that he'd been trying to look out for Isak for the longest time, even when Isak wouldn't let him, even when Isak wouldn't let anyone.

“Thank you,” Even said. “He's good for me, too.”

“Is this going to turn into a 'don't hurt him or I'll kick your ass' talk?” Noora asked, making her voice go deep as she mocked Jonas.

Jonas scoffed. “No, _Noora_ , Isak could kick his ass better than I could. Besides, you're the only person who's ever given that speech and it was to _me_ about Eva.”

“That's cause if you hurt her I'll kick your ass,” Noora said, looking down at her fingernails.

“Yeah, I don't doubt that,” Jonas said.

Noora just smiled dazzlingly at him and Jonas smiled dazzlingly back before turning back to Even again. “I mean, you won't hurt him, right? I really don't think you will. I don't think it's something I need to worry about, or something that Isak needs to worry about.”

“No,” Even said, and then, “I mean, I hope not. I would never do it on purpose. I hope I never do it on accident again, like I did before.”

“Yeah that was rough,” Jonas said. “But I'm sure it was rough on you, too. Misunderstandings always are.” Jonas smiled at him. “You're a good guy, Even. I trust you because Isak trusts you, and Isak doesn't trust just anyone.”

“No, I know,” Even said. Isak was the opposite of Even. Even trusted everyone, immediately and with all of himself. They'd grown up differently, had different experiences, but they'd found each other, and Even had never met someone who was such a perfect match for him. None of his friends knew him and understood him like Isak did, and he'd been with Sonja for the longest time but he'd never felt this way with her, not even at the beginning. He'd loved her so much, but this was different, a different kind of love, a deeper intensity. Isak was better for him than Sonja had ever been, and that was part of dating and sleeping with other people and finding his way to Isak, because now he knew what he wanted. He knew that he wanted to feel like this every day. “I'm lucky he trusts me. I'm lucky to even know him.”

“So, I have a question,” Noora said, inserting herself into the conversation in a way that was unlike her. People went out of character when it came to Isak, Even had realized. He certainly had, at first.

“Go ahead,” Even said, because she practiced more restraint than anyone else. She wouldn't delve into the most personal parts of the relationship like, say, Eskild would, or Magnus, or Mikael.

“Are you two dating? Isak always says you're just friends.”

Even hadn't thought about what they were in so long that the question caught him completely off guard. Once he'd stopped worrying about the labels and the definitions and just enjoyed the relationship he was building with Isak, stuff like that stopped mattering. He was able to focus fully on what they were, not what they were supposed to be. It was nice. It was unlike anything he'd experienced before.

“I don't know,” Even said eventually. “It doesn't really matter to us.”

“But you're exclusive?” Noora asked.

“Yeah,” Even said. “Um. I think so.” He hadn't considered that in a long time, either. But he had no fears. He knew how Isak felt. If it was even half as strong as what Even felt, there wouldn't even be a consideration of other people. Even knew he hadn't looked twice at someone else since weeks before the first time he and Isak slept together, as they grew closer as friends and then as more. He knew the only reason he'd had mindless sex before that after meeting Isak for the first time was because he'd thought that he was unwanted by the one boy that mattered, and because he was so terrified of ruining another relationship.

“Well that's good,” Noora said. “He deserves something without stress for once.”

“Yeah,” Jonas said. “He really does.”

Even hadn't expected his first true discussion with two of the people who cared most about Isak in the world to be this... easy. He was expecting their assumptions that he wasn't good enough for Isak because for a long time he hadn't thought he was good enough, not by a long shot. Not good enough for Sonja or all the people he slept with during and after their breakup, and definitely not good enough for Isak. But none of Isak's friends felt that way, at least not obviously. And Isak had told him not to think like that, he'd told him not to think like that a dozen times and somewhere along the way Even had started to believe it. _I wouldn't waste my time on someone who wasn't worth it, baby_ , Isak had said once. _You'd never say that about me, I don't want you to say it about yourself, either._

Jonas left a few minutes later with the promise to say hello to Eva and Vilde for Noora, and after another ten minutes of watching _Twin Peaks_ with Noora he went downstairs to switch the laundry to the dryer. And then he went back upstairs to the living room that Noora had vacated and waited for Isak to return so that they could actually do something fun, like go to a park, or have sex for another four straight hours. He could get used to staying home and waiting for Isak. It was a sweet kind of prospect, waiting for the time they could spend together. He heard the doorknob turn and stood up from the couch.

“I've decided I want to be your trophy husband,” Even said when Isak walked back through the kollektiv's front door, flushed and sweaty and absolutely fucking beautiful. His brow furrowed at Even's words, a confused smile coming to his lips.

“What?” he asked, moving in to kiss him hello. He smelled bad but Even didn't care.

“I'll just look pretty and do your laundry and I won't have to work,” he said, wrapping his arms around Isak's waist and pulling him close despite his sweaty smell. Isak rested his hands on Even's biceps and smiled at him in amusement. “I'll cook for you and wait for you to come home. And when we have five little blonde children I'll take care of them while you're off saving the world one epidemiological research method at a time.”

“ _Five_ children?” Isak asked. He shook his head. “No. That's not happening.”

“All at the same time,” Even said. “Quintuplets.”

Isak laughed and Even amended, “No? Six, then.”

“Two, _maximum,_ ” Isak said, poking a finger into Even's chest.

“You've been talking with Sana,” Even said with a pout. “She already broke Yousef's heart, and now you're breaking mine. There can only be so many broken hearts in one house, Isak.”

“You are _such_ a dork,” Isak said, rocking forward to kiss him with a smile. “And I am _so_ in love with you. I'd love to have you as a trophy husband. You're definitely hot enough for it.”

“That means when I turn thirty-five I'll need to start bleaching my hair and getting botox,” Even said. “But I'll do anything for you.” He kissed Isak's forehead and wrinkled his nose at it. “You need a shower, my love.”

“You're very right,” Isak said. “And then we'll go to yours. And have a good time.” He threw a wink over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom and Even couldn't help but think that he was probably the luckiest man in the world.

  
+

“You can stop taking pictures of me,” Isak said, pushing Even's phone away from his face with one hand and shoving at his bare chest with the other. “You already made your movie. Already used that movie to get in my pants.”

“How dare you reduce my movie to a seduction technique,” Even said, raising his phone again as he slowly lifted one of their used tissues to Isak's face, watching his reaction in the camera. Isak grabbed the tissue from him and threw it at his face, then tried to repossess Even's phone again.

“Stop!” he tried to whine, as Even pushed his arms away and took another photo of him.

“ _Stop_ ,” Even mimicked in a high, nasally voice, and Isak turned to face him on the bed in an attempt to take the phone away, fighting down a smile.

“You're the worst boyfriend in the world,” Isak said as he hit him repeatedly in the chest with his pillow.

“I didn't know we were boyfriends,” Even teased, aiming the camera at him again as Isak lunged for it.

“Fuck you,” Isak said as it was removed from his reach again, expression a mix of amusement and embarrassment. And annoyance, too, which was one of his cutest looks in Even's opinion. Even had a knack for drawing that expression to his face.

“Are we _dating_ , Isak?” Even asked with a dramatic voice of fake shock.

“I hate you,” Isak huffed, falling back against the headboard and crossing his arms, looking resignedly at the window on his other side instead of at Even. Even still saw the telltale signs of a smile at the corners of his lips.

He leaned his head beside Isak's, angled the front-facing camera at the them, and took a picture. It looked like a very annoyed boy and his very annoying boyfriend and Even smiled as he put his head on Isak's shoulder and opened Instagram. He tagged Isak in the photo and captioned it, _He loves me_ , partially because he knew Isak would hate a line like that and partially because it was exactly what the photo demanded. Then he logged out of his own account and into Isak's (his boy used the same password pattern for everything; _insta1234_ , _nflix1234_ , _fbook1234—_ a technological genius he was not) and attached a picture that'd been taken during the first minutes of Even's post-coital photoshoot. _Before or After?_ he wrote, and posted it with a smile.

It only took another minute for Isak to look over at the pinging of notifications. As soon as he saw what Even was grinning at he sat up straight, dropping Even's head from his shoulder and grabbing the phone from his hands with a gasp.

“Congratulations on the shortest relationship of all time,” Isak told him, and Even tried not to laugh.

“I was just making it official,” he said. “It was cute that you said it so I was immortalizing it. _Boyfriend_.”

“Not anymore,” Isak said, thumbing through some of the replies that had already accumulated and groaning at them. He looked at Even again. “I hate you.”

“You love me, I already put it on Instagram that you do.”

Isak pushed him. “You're the _worst_ , Even!”

“That's not what I said online,” Even sang, and laughed when Isak shoved him again. He settled back down on Isak's shoulder and watched him sign out of his own Instagram account on Even's phone and then start to close all the different apps that were open. Isak hated it when Even didn't quit the apps completely for some strange reason that also compelled him to keep the neatest school planner at the university, and yet had no sway in the way he shoved things haphazardly in his backpack or threw clothes across the floor with abandon.

“What's this?” Isak asked, stopping at the Google page that was open before Even could stop him. “'Studio apartment sublease.' Are you going to lease a studio apartment?”

Even pushed himself back up with a sigh. “I am. I move in in two weeks.”

Isak smiled. “Seriously? You're gonna have your own place?”

“Yeah, it's closer to campus, it's cheap. Utilities included. Washer and dryer in the unit.”

“That's awesome,” Isak said. “Why didn't you tell me? Half my stuff is here, I'll have to move it out before you go. Why didn't you say anything?”

“I don't know, I've been trying to convince myself that it's way too early to ask you to move in with me but I was afraid that telling you would make me ask you anyways.”

Isak's smile broadened and he touched Even's cheek. “You're cute. Ask me in a year or two and I'll say yes for sure.” He planted a kiss on Even's lips, smoothed over them with his thumb, and then got out of bed. “Time to go, we have people to see.”

Even groaned, tearing his eyes from Isak's naked body. “I don't want to.”

“You're the one that committed us to this.”

“Ooh, that makes us sound like a for real couple,” Even said, standing, too. “I made plans for the both of us. That's as committed as it gets, boyfriend.”

“Stop holding that over my head, you douchebag,” Isak said, throwing a towel at him. “I'm taking a shower. _Don't_ follow me.”

“I just told you I can't wait to move in with you and you won't even reward me with shower sex?”

“We have a pregame to be at, _boyfriend_ ,” Isak said over his shoulder, already opening the bedroom door with the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Things would go much faster if we showered together.”

“You and I both know that's not true. Pick me out some clothes, people are gonna be here in less than an hour.”

Isak was already in the hallway when Even called, “I'm gonna pick you out a jockstrap and a crop top,” into his crowded house.

“You don't have either of those things,” Isak called back from around the corner.

“I love you,” Even tried.

“Love you, too,” Isak called back, and Even smiled, turning back to his wardrobe. While he'd much rather stay in with Isak again, like they'd been spending their nights for months since their reconciliation, this was a last hurrah of sorts. He'd be moved out of the Eriksen house by the end of the month, and Isak had just removed the last of his belongings from Vilde's room in Eva's apartment a few days prior.

This would be the first time that both Isak and Even's friends would all be together, but it still felt like the end of an era, and no one was sappier to ends of eras than Even and his friends. Soon the house he'd spent the last two years in would be empty, all his friends scattered, and so when they invited him to an end-of-year rager a month after finals, Even couldn't say no to their attempts at persuasion. When Even had asked Isak to join he'd discovered that he'd already been coerced into it by his own friends. And then Sana was going with Yousef, and Eva was going with Jonas, and Vilde was going with Magnus, so Chris naturally decided to tag along, and then the girls forced Noora into it, too, and then the pregame was set for eight o'clock at the Eriksen house with plenty of time to get to the party on the other side of campus by eleven.

By the time the last of the visitors had arrived, the living room was packed to capacity. There were beers piled onto the coffee table and Mahdi was rolling joints on one corner of the surface. He handed one to Isak without any prompting or pay and Isak smiled at him, nodding his thanks seemingly so as not to admit to his own lack of money in a roomful of people. Even smiled, too, because Isak was cute when he didn't know how to express himself with words. He took the joint from him and turned it over in his fingers, resting his head more solidly on Isak's shoulder and feeling Isak's arm tighten around him in response. Even in the chaos of fifteen people Even felt no difficulty focusing solely on Isak.

Isak was stroking through his hair when Even put the joint between his lips and tilted his head up for a light. And Isak complied, reaching for the lighter in his hoodie pocket and holding it to the end of the paper until the weed inside caught and Even could take a deep breath in. Even breathed out and leaned his head back onto Isak's shoulder and focused in on the conversations happening in front of him.

Sana and Yousef were on one of the couches talking with Noora next to them, all of them sipping orange juice instead of alcohol. Vilde and Magnus were crammed into the armchair, Chris was talking animatedly with Mutta and Adam, Mahdi was drinking with Mikael and Elias, and Jonas was tossing cheese puffs into Eva's mouth in between her long gulps of wine straight from the bottle. And Even hadn't necessarily been looking forward to this intersection of lives in his living room—time spent alone with Isak was time better spent than sharing him with others—he couldn't similarly complain now. Everyone was getting along, people seemed happy, and as far as ends of eras go, this was one of the better ones. Costanza had even willingly laid on his lap for a few minutes, and Isak was apparently cat-whisperer extraordinaire because all three had greeted him while purring.

Even shifted and pulled his head up. He handed over the joint and blew out his smoke in Isak's face, making Isak scrunch up his nose and Even smile at him. Isak pressed a kiss to his lips, short and sweet, and then pulled his arm from around Even's shoulders so that he could link their fingers between them. He took a drag with his other hand and turned to face Magnus when he said his name.

“Yes?” Isak asked.

“How's the sex?”

“I'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that,” Isak said.

“Well you're having sex, aren't you?” Magnus asked. “Jonas told us.”

“Thanks, Jonas,” Isak said.

“Noora told me,” Jonas said, pointing at the couch.

“Because you walked into my house and I wanted you to leave,” Noora said.

“Rude,” Jonas muttered, taking a sip of beer.

“But the sex,” Magnus started again.

“Let's not do this,” Sana said.

“Oh, _let's_ , Sana,” Chris said, leaning forward in interest. “Even seems like he'd be weird in bed, let's explore that.”

Isak choked on the smoke in his lungs and coughed for about a minute straight as Even tried coaxing a cup of water to his lips, tapping his back more in comfort than functionality, hiding the blush on his face in the downturn of his gaze.

“Oh my God,” Isak eventually said, voice hoarse, clutching the cup of water. “Oh my _God_ , Chris, why would you think that?”

“He's very handsome and normal-looking,” Chris said. “Those are the kinky ones.”

It made Isak dissolve into laughter with everyone else and Even took the joint from him as he shook his head. Isak cupped his face in one hand with a smile and Even couldn't even be too embarrassed by the turn of events if it made Isak this happy.

The truth of the matter was that their sex was as easygoing as the rest of their relationship. It was as _fun_ as the rest of their relationship. It was a lot of joking and laughing and mishaps that took any pressure off. It was an easy give and take of control that wasn't really control but camaraderie and love and the deepest friendship, and the fact that Isak could laugh about it made Even know it was healthy. He was smiling when he pressed a kiss to Isak's temple and Isak's hand on his thigh made all the teasing worth it.

“No,” Isak finally managed to tell the crowd around them. “No, Even's not weird in bed.”

“That's Eva,” Jonas said in an attempt to shift focus.

“That's fucking right,” Eva said, raising her wine bottle in a toast.

“That's not at all surprising,” Chris said.

“Not as weird as you are in bed,” Eva told her.

“True true,” Chris said with a smile, clinking her beer can against Eva's bottle.

The conversations broke again and Even found himself pulled to one between Sana, Yousef, and Elias. Yousef would be moving into a one bedroom apartment come July, so Elias was recounting the dramatic story of betrayal he'd faced when he and the rest of the boys had been told that both Even and Yousef were leaving the Eriksen house.

Even felt a hand on his cheek, turning his head, so he went with the pressure and looked into Isak's eyes. Isak pulled open his mouth with a thumb on his chin and leaned in to blow the smoke from his lungs between Even's lips, like they had so many months before, the very first time. Isak's lips had curled into a smile by the time they pressed against Even's own, and Even smiled back until it couldn't practically be called a kiss anymore and they pulled back.

“I love you,” Even said, pulling him closer with an arm around his waist.

Isak nudged their noses together and kissed him again. “I love you, too.”

“Isak!” Eva screamed, and Isak rolled his eyes as he looked away from Even.

“What?” Isak asked.

“Did you tell Even?” she asked, bouncing excitedly in place with Jonas's snapback askew on her head.

“Tell Even what?” he asked, taking Even's hand again.

“You know what,” she urged, raising and lowering her eyebrows intensively.

“She's talking about the job, man,” Jonas said.

“I'm talking about the job!” Eva agreed with a drunken squeal, eyes bright, smile wide.

“No way,” Even said, turning to him. “You got the job? That's so great, babe, oh my God.”

“Thanks,” Isak said with a smile, kissing him. “It's really good pay. Pretty good hours.”

“Aw, you're gonna be a waiter, Issy,” Mahdi said. “You'll have to wear an apron and everything, that's adorable.”

“You can finally pay me back for years of spotting you,” Magnus said. “'Just spot me this once, Mags, I'll get you back, I swear.'”

“Cute,” Even said as Isak grumbled at the attention.

“It's cute that your boyfriend's poor?” Mutta asked.

“It's cute that Magnus believed Isak when he said he'd pay him back,” Vilde said, brushing some of Magnus's hair from his face.

“That's just dumb,” Mahdi said. “The trick is that you have to stop caring whether or not he pays you back. That makes it easier to give him things for free.”

“Shut up,” Isak said, throwing a throw pillow that'd been on the floor at him.

Mahdi laughed and tossed it back. “No, man, it's fine. Seriously. Congrats on the job.”

Isak smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“I'm proud of you,” Even said in his ear, kissing his temple.

“It's just a job,” Isak huffed, squirming a little at his touch and fighting back a smile. Even knew just how proud of himself Isak was because he _knew_ Isak. Isak was finally getting his life back on track for the first time since it'd been derailed in high school and he was trying to act like it didn't mean too much to him when Even knew that it did. It was the same way Even felt about loving Isak. He'd been so afraid of love, of relationships, terrified that he'd mess it up like he'd done before. But his relationship with Isak was stronger than it'd ever been with Sonja—the foundation had been formed on the backs of two clueless fifteen-year-olds and was shaky from the start. His relationship with Isak never felt anything but completely solid; it was the exact kind of love that rebuilt his image of love itself. He could do this, and he would, and he wanted to. He was confident in his choices, and he'd made mistakes but they'd led him here eventually. Here, kissing a boy he never thought he'd have. Here, with a group of friends so large their voices were echoing off the living room walls. Here, happy and assured and completely content.

He leaned further into Isak, letting his head fall to Isak's shoulder, and felt one of Isak's arms go around him, stroking nice and easy through his hair with long fingers.

“You okay?” Isak asked, lips smudging against Even's forehead as he spoke.

“Mmhm,” Even said. “I'm fine.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Should we skip the party?”

Isak looked so hopeful that Even was tempted to agree just to make him happy, because Isak was always happier not going to parties than he was going to parties. But he couldn't ditch after the pregame _again_ , so he just smiled and kissed Isak's nose and said, “I'm fine. It's just the weed.”

“Okay,” Isak said, kissing his nose in response. “You'll wake up when we get going anyways. I respect your decision even though it means that I have to go to a party.”

“Babe, I told you,” Even started, curling his arms around Isak, “you can stay here and sleep and I'll only stay out for a little while. It's fine if you don't want to go.”

“I don't want to go,” Isak agreed. “But I don't want to be here alone, either. And I'll go anywhere with you, you know that.”

“Aw,” Even said, kissing his temple. “You're so sweet when you're high.”

“Fuck you, I'm sweet all the time.”

“That's true,” Even said. “You are. You just show it better when you're high.”

Isak tilted his head to kiss him. “I love you,” he murmured, and kissed him again.

“I love you, too,” Even answered. It'd become their absolute favorite exchange over the past week and Even knew for a fact that it would never, ever be anything less. He had never felt this way before and he'd told Isak that but it didn't feel like enough to say the words when it was an all encompassing feeling. He'd been so scared for so long and those fears had only abated when he'd gotten to know Isak. Isak made him feel worthy of love. Isak made him feel deserving in a way he hadn't felt in years. He knew now that he'd carry that feeling with him from there forward, no matter what happened between the two of them. He loved Isak and he wanted to continue to love Isak for as long as was possible, in this universe and every other, but nothing was certain. He knew that. No matter what happened, though, he'd carry the self-worth that Isak had helped him regain. He wouldn't forget it again.

“Are we ready to go, bitches?” Mikael called into the living room, and Even watched Isak roll his eyes as everyone cheered.

It'd been a while since Even had been to a party; the last few times he'd been drunk to a level that was generally not conducive with his mood disorder and falling all over Isak as he forgot chunks of the night. But Isak didn't drink so Even was cutting back for the sake of both of them, just like Isak had stopped smoking so much because Even wasn't supposed to keep up with him. Increased sobriety wasn't so bad. Even had found he had less of a reason to get wasted when he knew unconditionally that he had the most wonderful person in the world on his arm. There was no reason to get drunk enough to avoid feelings, no reason to get drunk enough to have sex without wanting to stay afterwards. Now he had Isak. It'd took him a while to realize that he'd never want to forget moments with Isak, that he wasn't drinking to forget anymore.

The party's population was far too large for the confines of the house it was hosted in. When Isak's grip tightened on his hand as they walked towards the front door Even considered just turning around with him and going home, for the sake of the both of them.

But they were doing this because in two weeks, Even wouldn't live with his friends anymore. Isak was at Eskild's far more than anywhere else in a pattern more stable than he'd ever known before. Things were changing and it was good, but they owed the era one last goodbye.

Even had an arm around Isak's shoulders as they walked inside, and then slipped it down his arm to take his hand when the crowd got too dense to walk side-by-side. They'd been following their friends, bringing up the rear of a line that was becoming more and more fragmented the further inside they went, but when they reached the far wall the rest of the group had been lost to the crowd. Even took advantage of the loss to kiss Isak against a wall for a few minutes, and then Isak was tugging him to another corner in another room where Mikael and Adam were standing with Jonas and Mahdi. Sana had found herself a seat at the window and Yousef was standing next to her, holding a water bottle for the both of them. Mutta and Elias were dancing poorly with Eva and Chris, Noora was making conversation with another girl who seemed equally nonplussed to be there, and Magnus and Vilde were still drinking, looking every bit like the couple that they weren't anymore.

Ultimately, it was nice to be there, Even thought. If nothing else, it was an opportunity to silently brag about his relationship with Isak to half the school. He didn't think he'd ever been so proud to be seen with someone.

Tonight they would kiss and they would dance and they would laugh. Tonight they would sing along to Gabrielle and step onto the patio so that Even could smoke a cigarette that he promised would be his last. _For real this time, baby._ Tonight they would bid goodbye to the friends that they could find, and they would hop on one of the last trams home, and they would walk hand-in-hand through cool summer air until they got to the house's front door. Isak would be nearly asleep, from the late hour, from the pot in his system, and Even would unlock the door and let him in first. They'd undress and redress and brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom mirror, smiling at each other's reflections. Isak would fall into bed first and say, slow and sleepy, _big spoon or little spoon_ , and Even would brush the hair from his forehead and pull him onto his chest instead, because Isak liked it that way the best. Even would ask him about the philosophy behind parallel universes, like he'd done so many times before in an attempt to understand, and Isak would tell him, _It doesn't matter. You're in this one, with me. It's the only universe that matters._ And Even would agree.

  
**ISAK  
after**

Even graduated a semester early, on a December afternoon filled with snow flurries, right after his last final projects were submitted for review and with a production company internship starting in the new year.

Isak moved in with him the next day.

Christmas when he was sixteen, his father left. When he was seventeen he was outed and he left his mother's house. At nineteen years old he left Eva's apartment to be with Eskild again because the holiday was too hard to endure alone. But when he turned twenty, Even was in his life. Their first Christmas together was spent in a cabin by a frozen lake. This December Isak was moving in with the man he loved.

Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi had helped Isak move. He only had a few boxes; in his years of moving around, he hadn't had the space or permanence to acquire a lot of stuff. Which was okay, because Even didn't have a lot of space, either. He'd lived in a studio apartment since the end of his second year and had begged Isak to move in at the end of every semester, but Isak had always kissed him and said no. Even if living with Even was his dream, even if Even was the absolute love of his life or whatever cheesy title had implanted itself in Isak's mind a year and a half ago and hadn't left since. He had made his home with Eskild, Linn, and Noora again and he was happy with them. He wanted to stop moving, he wanted to get used to having a home again before he made one with Even. But now that he was here, at this point in his life, he couldn't wait to build a life with Even.

The boys didn't stay for the beer that Even offered them. Isak didn't want them to. As soon as the door closed behind them on their way out, Isak was wrapping his arms around Even's neck and kissing him deep.

“Hi,” he whispered against Even's lips, pulling back enough to look at him.

Even smiled. “Hey,” he said, and brushed their noses together, and kissed him again. “You ready for this?”

It was such a genuine question, it was such an _Even_ question. Even cared so much about Isak and Isak had never felt so comfortable, so fully _himself_ with another person. He only had a handful of people he didn't hide from, and Even had made that list in the shortest amount of time anyone ever had.

“I'm so excited for this,” Isak admitted.

“If you ever get scared,” Even said, “and if you ever need anything, talk to me, okay? I want this to be our house. And I don't want you to ever go through anything alone.”

“I'm not scared,” Isak said with a smile, running his fingers through Even's hair. “For the first time in my life, actually.” He kissed Even, short and soft. “But if I ever am, I'll talk to you. I always do, don't I?”

“This is big,” Even said. “And we're so perfect, baby, but something this big can really put stress on a relationship and I don't want our relationship to be stressed.”

“Even,” Isak said, cupping Even's face in both hands. “I love that you're thinking about me. But I feel so good about this. And I know our relationship will be fine. I promise it will be.”

Even hugged him, pulling him close with arms around his waist, and Isak hugged him back, sliding his arms around Even's neck.

“I get to spend Christmas here,” Isak said. “With you. In our home.” He could never express how much it meant to him. He had never thought that he would one day have what he had now.

“I love you,” Even said, hugging him tight. “I love you so much.”

Isak didn't have to say anything about the true way that he felt. He was no good at it, anyways. And Even knew. He always knew. Even knew Isak's past so Even knew how it would affect Isak's future. He knew everything and he loved Isak just the same.

“I love you, too,” Isak whispered.

“Want dinner, my love?” Even asked, pressing one more kiss against his lips. “I can start pasta and we can wait to unpack until tomorrow.”

Isak already had a toothbrush on the bathroom counter, he'd had a toothbrush there for a year and a half because he'd spent most of his nights there, too. But this was different. This was permanent. _Even_ was permanent, and this life they'd made together was.

“Yeah,” Isak said with a smile. “Tomorrow.” Tonight they had this.

Isak sat on the countertop and Even kissed him as he reached over his shoulder for the pasta box. “I bought you something,” Even said.

“Yeah?” Isak asked, watching Even walk to the refrigerator. Even opened the crisper and handed Isak tomatoes, peppers, and a bundle of spinach leaves. When Isak was done lining everything up on the counter beside him, he looked up and saw Even holding a bottle of champagne with a big smile on his face and Isak snorted at his display.

“I know you like beer,” Even said, setting the bottle on the counter and sliding between Isak's thighs again. “But people don't celebrate with beer.”

“I can be cheesy for a night,” Isak said with a smile. “For you. Anything for you.” He kissed Even. “See, isn't that appropriately cheesy?”

“You're doing great,” Even said, pressing a final kiss to his forehead and moving to open the bottle. It took longer than it probably should have and Isak smiled watching him struggle and then laughed at Even's exclamation of success when the cork came out. Even poured a serving each into two mismatched mugs because his cabinets lacked champagne flutes and wine glasses and most things that normal humans own.

Drinking had stopped being a problem for Isak; he didn't use it to forget anymore. Years of abstaining and getting his life together had helped his self-medication and now he could drink with his boyfriend and his friends and be okay. He could even get mildly drunk and be okay. Everything didn't have to be in excess anymore because he wasn't so fucking sad anymore.

He took the mug in both hands and sipped on it while Even started chopping vegetables, and he kept having to remind himself that he didn't have to leave. This wasn't Even's place anymore, the studio apartment where Isak spent most of his nights but always ended up leaving. This was theirs, it was a home Isak had never had, with a boy that Isak had never thought he could be loved by.

“There's a can of crushed tomatoes in the cabinet above your head,” Even said, tapping Isak on the knee and nodding above him. “Can you get it for me?”

They'd made dinner together hundreds of times. They'd eaten together thousands of times. Isak had sat on this counter every week for a year and a half, and he looked forward to doing it for so much longer. He could see himself here not only because of how often he'd been here but because he saw himself wherever Even was. He couldn't imagine not being a part of his life.

When they were young and just starting out, Isak hadn't known if they would last. He was used to crumbling relationships and he was used to being taken advantage of. It'd happened with his parents and with the girls and boys he'd been with in high school, when he was lonely and scared and in the closet. And he knew that Even would never do that to him; after the misunderstandings and the long talks and the months of being just friends even though they both wanted more, he knew that Even was willing to wait forever and if someone was willing to wait forever then they wouldn't throw it all away with abandon. But he didn't trust himself to keep good things. He was so used to losing people that he tended to sabotage things before giving them a chance.

But it'd been two years since he and Even became good friends halfway to much more. And Isak was getting used to people sticking around. Even after everything Isak had put him through, Jonas had been his friend since the first day of grade school. Eva had been there when he needed her after their falling out, offering her love and friendship and living room couch. Eskild was still the father figure he'd always needed and never had, he was so proud of Isak and he took care of Isak and he loved Isak so much in a certain familial way he'd always wanted. Linn and Noora never got annoyed at him for taking up space; Noora still cooked for him and Linn bought him groceries because he couldn't afford them himself. He had assumed that Magnus and Mahdi wouldn't be permanent fixtures in his life after high school but he couldn't imagine not being friends with them now. And so it made the idea that Even would hang around less ridiculous. It made Isak feel comfortable, not worried about being left all the time.

He was only nineteen when he realized that he would be okay if Even left him, that he had the support he would need to get through it and be okay and not completely fall apart with a lack of self-worth. He would be okay but for the first time he wasn't preparing for it.

He was preparing for a life with Even. He was ready for a life with Even.

He watched Even stir the sauce he was making, crushed tomatoes boiling down the sliced tomatoes and diced bell peppers and strips of spinach. He turned on the burner that Even set a pot of water on to make the penne. Isak smiled into the kiss on his lips and drank more champagne until the cup ran dry and Even filled it up again. Isak didn't have school until January. Even didn't start work until after the holidays. They would have a month to themselves and their new life and Isak was so excited.

They ate at the little table in the living area and drank more champagne until Isak's head was pleasantly fuzzy. He was laughing more easily and touching Even more.

“I brought a moving present for you, too,” he said, moving to retrieve his hoodie from where he'd thrown it on the bed. He turned around and sat down on the bed. “Come here,” he said.

Even sat next to him and smiled at Isak's production of a well-rolled joint with a little, “Ta-da.”

“Mahdi gave it to me as a going away present,” he said. “Because now I'm in a place where I can actually smoke inside, where Noora's not making the rules.” He stood up and tugged his hoodie on. “Let's go outside.”

Even kissed his cheek as he rose, too, and slipped the comforter off of his bed. Their bed. There were two plastic chairs on the little balcony that the two of them frequented in their nights together. Isak grabbed a lighter from the windowsill and pulled one of Even's beanies over his head before swinging the door open and bracing against the cold.

“Jesus, baby, slow down,” Even said, trying to slip into a hoodie.

“Keep up, old man,” Isak called from outside, moving the chairs together and looking over his shoulder to the living space inside. Even was pulling his hood over his head and he let the comforter trail behind him as he made his way outside, closing the door behind him. He kissed Isak as he rounded the chairs and sat down to next to him, spreading the duvet over their laps. Isak had the joint between his lips and was trying to get the flame to catch, but the wind wasn't agreeing with the lighter so he eventually gave up and handed both to Even. Even stuck the joint in his mouth and cupped one hand around it as he tried to light it. He got it on the first time. Hipster douche. He took a deep drag and passed it to Isak and Isak smiled, moving closer to rest his head on Even's shoulder as he took a pull.

“I live here now,” he said on his exhale. He couldn't stop smiling.

Even pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You do. And I'm so happy.”

“Me, too,” Isak said, smiling.

They smoked and they kissed and they looked out over the city together, huddled close together and trying to keep warm. This was their first joint in their home, after their first dinner in their home, their first kiss there. Isak wanted so many more firsts, he wanted all the firsts possible. In this universe they met his first week in college and they messed it up at the beginning of his second semester and he was a year and a half from graduation now and living with the man he hoped to marry someday.

Being loved had been such an abstract concept to him once. And then Jonas was there for him, and Eva. And then Eskild and Linn, and Noora and Magnus and Mahdi. And they'd been a family that he'd always wanted, a strange but functioning little thing, and it was a love he'd missed and it filled him up, replaced every bad thought, every shitty memory. And then there was Even, who loved him just that little bit differently. And it still felt like family, just a different kind.

  
**EVEN  
before**

“David Attenborough?”

“Aren't you supposed to be a film student?”

Even took a pull from their second joint of the night and shook his head. “He must be a pretty shit director if even _I_ haven't heard of him.”

He smiled as the boy rolled his eyes. “You call yourself educated,” he said, snatching the joint from between Even's fingers and bringing it to his own lips.

“Who is he? What's he made?”

“He's not a director.”

“What is he, then?”

“He's a narrator,” the boy said. Then seemed to reconsider and added, “Or something.”

“Or something?” Even asked with a laugh.

“Well I don't know,” the boy said, smiling back, rolling his eyes again. “I'm sure he does other things. But _I_ know him as a narrator.” His voice turned accusatory as he pointed at Even, joint between his fingers. “And you should too.”

Even took the joint back with a grin. “Even if I knew who he was, I wouldn't be able to work for him if he's just a narrator.”

“ _With_ , I said work _with_ him,” the boy said, leaning back against the porch railing.

“Doing what?”

“Filming _Planet Earth_.”

“Which is what?”

“You're insufferable, I swear to God--”

“Fine, fine,” Even laughed. “I know what _Planet Earth_ is.”

“Lying isn't a good way to make friends,” the boy said, kicking at his shin weakly where both their legs rested between them.

“Really?” Even asked. “What's a good way, then?”

“The weed's a good start,” the boy answered, and Even offered him the joint again. He took it with a smile. “And telling the truth.”

Even laughed. “I only lied about one thing!”

“It's my first week at college and I'm already being deceived by older men.” He shook his head, tapping ash onto the porch floor beside him but smiling as he looked up at Even again. “My high school counselor warned me about people like you.”

“People like me?” Even asked, mock affronted, putting his hand to his heart.

“Bullies. Sophomore year bullies.”

“Your high school counselor should've also warned you about doing drugs with strange men you don't know,” Even said.

“You're just about the least threatening person I've ever laid eyes on,” the boy said.

“So was Ted Bundy.”

“He wasn't nonthreatening, he was just handsome.”

“You don't think I'm handsome?”

The boy rolled his eyes and it was that moment that Even pinpointed as _the_ moment. The moment that it was over; completely and utterly over. But then again, he'd never stood a chance. It'd been over since the second Even had laid eyes on him.

It was his frown as he leaned against the living room wall, his temporary smile as a girl with red hair danced over to him and how it fell again when she turned her back and danced away. It was the way he kept checking the time on his phone and seeming unhappy at the result, like it was never quite the right time. It was his gray jeans and his red hoodie, his blonde hair and his green eyes. And when he started towards the back door, towards the porch where no one else was, Even followed him because he couldn't not.

If the boy knew he was being flirted with, he didn't show it. He didn't blush and his banter seemed more like teasing than flirting back. But Even didn't care. It only made him like him more. Everything he did only made Even like him more.

He hadn't felt like this in years. It's possible that he hadn't felt like this ever.

“Maybe you should work for _Planet Earth_ if you're so hot for David Attenborough,” Even said.

“Well I'm not a film major, am I?” the boy said in exasperation, acting tired of Even's shit in a way that endeared Even to no end.

“I already have plans for my filmmaking career,” Even lied.

“Oh yeah?” the boy asked, unconvinced. “And what's that?”

“I'll be one of the producers for competitive cooking shows,” he said, and reveled in the laugh that pulled from the boy. “ _Cutthroat Kitchen_ ,” he said. “ _Chopped_.”

“ _Great British Bake Off_?”

“Oh, especially _Great British Bake Off_!”

It'd been so long— _so_ long—since Even had felt a connection like this to another person. A connection that was more than for one night only, that was promising, that didn't want to break his heart. He hadn't wanted more than he had. He hadn't wanted another person the way he wanted this person. He hadn't trusted himself to want it. Things with Sonja had ended so badly that it'd ruined everything else. It'd been a year and he wasn't over it, wasn't over what happened to them and wasn't over his part in it. He loved love. He didn't want to see it fail again.

But for this boy— _this boy—_ he'd risk it. He'd do anything. And he'd never had much restraint before when it came to romance, but right now he'd lose all caution if he could.

Things didn't have to be bad forever. Even didn't have to bear punishment forever. He'd been told it time and time again, but he'd never believed it more than he did now.

“Isak!”

They both turned to the door with a start when it was pulled open. A boy was there, and Even turned his head to look at his boy again. Isak.

“God, I've been looking for you,” the boy said. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

“I told you I didn't want to come to this fucking party,” Isak said, brows furrowed in annoyance. “Am I not allowed to sit where there's not ten billion people surrounding me?”

The kid rolled his eyes. If Even had been only a touch more high he'd compliment his hair. He liked that it just went everywhere.

“Mahdi and Mags are ready to leave, are you sharing the cab back or not?”

Isak scrunched his nose up. Even wanted to beg him to decline. “Why would I share a cab with Mahdi and Mags, they live in the opposite direction from Eva.”

“Because you're not staying at Eva's tonight, you stupid boy, you're staying with me.”

“Fuck, I forgot,” Isak said, pushing himself off the ground and straightening up. “Your parents better be dead asleep, I smell like weed.”

It was only then that the boy in the doorway seemed to notice Even. “Shit, hey,” he said.

Even stood up, too, so that he wasn't the only one on the ground. “Hey.”

“Oh,” Isak said. “This is Jonas. Jonas this is....” He turned to Even raised eyebrows and shrugged when Even caught his eye.

“Even,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too, man,” Jonas said enthusiastically, shaking his hand. Even guessed he was a touch less than sober. “Great party. For real. This is your place, right?”

“Yeah, I share with some other people. I'm glad you had a good time.”

“It was awesome. Really.”

“It actually was,” Isak said, turned to him with a smile.

“And Isak hates parties,” Jonas said. “And people.”

“Shame,” Even said, smiling at Isak.

Isak rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the weed,” he told Even. “I'll probably see you around.”

“Yeah,” Even said. “You probably will.” Even would make goddamn sure of it.

They were gone with only another smile. It was an anticlimactic exit but Even wasn't even disappointed like he'd normally be. Not everything had to be like a movie. Some things were better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you guys!  
> i'm on tumblr at supermansplaining :)


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